


For Our Happiness

by Rhombea



Category: Yantober
Genre: Blood and Injury, Escape, Forced Relationship, Jealousy, Knives, Lovesickness, Manipulation, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Other, Pain, Possessive Behavior, Sex, Threats, Threats of Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 39,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhombea/pseuds/Rhombea
Summary: Rhys Aspen, a young boy who appears to have it all figured out in life, meets you, and suddenly, everything takes a turn to the worst. How will you handle the sickening love he shares with only you, and how far are you both willing to go to protect what is most important in your life?[Compiled works of my 2020 October challenge for the prompt list around Yantober!]
Relationships: Rhys Aspen/Reader
Kudos: 25





	1. Blush

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thank you for picking this story! Please heed the warnings for the content you are going to read here but nonetheless: Enjoy! ♥

The first person Rhys ever looked up to was his brother. Always smiling, always charming. He was a person that would fall to the ground, get a bloody knee, get up again, and carry on with an even brighter smile than before. Other kids flocked around him with invitations, and he even took Rhys by the hand and showed the little toddler the world around him despite Rhys barely able to talk in full sentences yet. 

In kindergarten, he met Markus. Markus would take the biggest, dirtiest branch he could find in the outdoor area, stick it into the ground and declare himself king of the grounds. Either he was a simple-brained idiot or a natural leader, Rhys never found out. Still, after a short contemplation time, the other children decided to follow their new king around his self-declared kingdom, doing just like Markus told them to. More than he remembered tagging along, Rhys couldn’t get the image out of his mind of the brightly smiling Markus, basking in the glory of being the king of the kindergarten, confident and accepted by everyone.

In between kindergarten and high school, he met many more of those kinds of people. People to look up to and admire. People that he just couldn’t help but want to be like, especially with his natural timidness and insecurities. Rhys could not deny that the lessons he learned in the past by the people around him were more than useful when he walked into his class on the first day of high school. There he met Lucas, who was the first one to let him know both sides of the social standing coin, as painful as it was. That, of the loser, and that of the winner. It came with some sacrifices of his childhood friends, but there was a satisfaction to be found in being deemed ‘cool’ enough to hang with the bullies and being free of their nagging. It finally paid off that he had studied the idols he had in his childhood, and it felt good to be popular and admired, for a change, since all he had ever known was to be an admirer, not the person loved.

That was how he grew up to become the young man he was when he started college. Observing and copying traits he admired, and even more so  _ desired _ . Soon, he was the equivalent of a charming boy everyone loved. People flocked around him to see him, asked for his number, which he was glad to give out, and invited him to parties and get-togethers more than he could possibly attend. He had friends, social standing, good looks - copied right out of magazines - and admired as a helpful fellow, a good listener, an intelligent student, and for his smile, which made everyone swoon.

He was cool.

Naturally, people wanted to be closer to him, wanted to be  _ like _ him. He had more friends than people attended his college, was friendly and calm, helpful and admirable. There was no way you could  **not** like him, that’s how convincing he was. It didn’t matter anymore that he was not a popular child when he was still young. Neither did it matter that he had been clumsy and annoying, nor that he became very withdrawn and shy when he couldn’t connect to others. It all. Didn’t. Matter. Anymore. Because now, he was simply cool in the eyes of everyone else. People came to him for advice and to feel a bit better about themselves and who they hung out with, and Rhys humored them for a bit, always looking down at them with a mix of pity and understanding. It was tempting for them, wasn’t it?

Rhys learned it early. Learned how ‘cool’ and ‘admired’ people just had it more comfortable in life. They’d get snacks from others for free, more positive attention from the teachers - hell, he once got caught smoking, and the teacher just shrugged and let him off the hook, so perhaps, he even got their ignorance - and no one seemed to bother them on their way to a successful future, whereas others had to struggle  _ so _ much more.

Rhys adored that feeling.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

It felt  _ amazing _ . He felt  _ superior _ .

And then you came around to tear it from his hands as if it was nothing.

He had come so far, he was not going to stop now. Stop being ‘cool’ and ‘admired’. Stop being the fantastic person he is, just because you thought you had to transfer to his college. Rhys didn’t spend all these years studying people and find the perfect mix of personalities that he had to uphold to get where he was just so you could barge into his life and throw everything he knew out of the window.

In that one, fateful moment that you two shared, as he unceremoniously fell over his own feet while joking around with his buddies, and right in front of you, he swore that he’d not rest until he could stop this damn feeling. You were nothing special, nothing even worth his time and effort. Still, the hand you stretched out to him to help him up was so tender and warm, it was like you saw right behind his fake coolness that he build so carefully. And you didn’t even laugh at him for his mistake. You didn’t say anything when he so charmingly exclaimed that he might have fallen for you. You just grinned your stupid, pretty grin and gave him a, “Yeah, yeah,” trotting off with your friends and leaving him behind.

Blushing. Red over both ears. Absolutely overrun by how beautiful the sun shone down on you, illuminating just the best parts - which, to be fair, were all of them - of your body, making you look like a saint. A fucking angel even. You were everything he had worked so hard to make himself look like too. Kind, charming, funny. Quick to make retorts to his words, but never condescending, only pleasant in doing so. Someone people liked to hang out with, and they just liked you for what you were, nothing more, nothing less.

Yet again, he found someone he admired. 

He admired you because you were a natural, whereas he was just a fake puppet that embodied all that he wanted to be, but deep down, he could never be like you, and he knew it. He couldn’t be like his brother, or Markus, or Lucas, and he couldn’t be Rhys either. These  _ damn _ feelings of envy and desperation came back from his childhood insecurities when he realized that he was nothing compared to you. He wanted what you had, and he wanted it now. He had spent too much of his life already worrying that he couldn’t have what you had as a natural skillset, making him look like a clown if he was to ever stand beside you. And so he decided, with his face showing his admiration for you from ear to ear, redder than even the tomatoes he liked to snack, that this time, he wanted to be like you.

And if he couldn’t have that… then he would have you instead.


	2. Desire

Desire was a feeling of many faces. 

There was the desire to achieve something, the desire to be liked, to be loved, to be touched. Desire to have something another person had, and a desire to be left alone from the world around one. Almost nothing on this planet earth couldn’t be desired if only you wanted it enough. Some desired to be like the sunny barista in the café around the corner; others wanted to be the CEO of a big company or a star in the magazines.

And Rhys desired to be you.

You didn’t share that many classes, less than you had fingers on one hand. But at least, those weren’t as important enough as that he couldn’t ignore them in favor of studying you. The way you held your pencil in your hand, or the stolen glances at your friend’s phone as they showed you funny videos under the table. He desired to have all of those mannerism which weren’t unique to you, but natural and straightforward. Perhaps, that did make them unique to you after all.

By the second lesson that you two shared, he already did his baby-steps in following your example. Using the same hand, the same arm position as you did, whenever you put it up to tell the teacher your thoughts. It was a small progress, but he did his best. No one would notice when he did it once or twice, and then changed to his prior way of doing things, so he was safe from being called out for his mimicking too.

That’s how he learned. From small fiddles to big gestures, you laid them all out in the open for him. If there was a way to describe the feeling of taking on someone’s behavior, it would be like  _ breaking  _ an arm. Perhaps, this feeling was exclusive for him, but he had to break his old habits in favor of the new ones, and sometimes he could feel the resistance of his body, telling him this wasn’t right. For a while, he had to fight his own limbs, muscles, and skin to achieve the goal he had sat in his mind, a war breaking out between his brain and heart.

Suppose Rhys had only listened to what his resistant muscles, the tingling on his skin, and the aching bones inside of him had tried to tell him. In that case, everything might have ended up differently. But he had always been more controlled by his mind over his heart, and if he wanted something, he was going to achieve it. 

It had been this way in everything he did. When he wanted to change, he changed, and when people praised him for it, he felt confirmed. When teachers told him to better his performance, he did. It might have cost him nights of not sleeping, so he could still hang out with his friends in the day - keeping up his image - and study at night, but it was almost a relief to hear he was doing so well and have even more people pay him the respect he deserved. Rhys would have done _ anything _ to become what he imagined to be, even if that meant torturing himself with relearning various things like writing with the same hand as you did, or looking into hobbies you had, so he could take them over too.

By the second semester, people around him started to change, mainly because you shared friend groups now. It was easier to observe you when you were hanging out. Rhys’s desire only grew more prominent the more he managed to be around you and absorb your very essence of being directly. It was convenient to have overlays, as you’d show up to activities he did with his friends, and vice versa. Invitations were almost thrown into his direction, to join your group for a hike or picnic in the park. He really could not blame your friends for wanting to be with him since he did his uttermost best to be liked by them just like you were.

Maybe you felt the intrusion in your life that came from him, but if you did, that was the first emotion he couldn’t read from your face alone. Heart racing, mind only calmed by the alcohol in his glass, he caught you in a calm moment at a party once, asking if you were doing okay. That was probably the first time you two spoke just between yourself, but your answer was curt and dissatisfying, and he might have even called it  _ cold _ .

“Yes, thank you for asking.”

With that, you were gone again, lost in the crowd of drunk and dancing students, not even giving a polite smile before leaving. Rhys could only stare after you as you disappeared so casually, and he wondered if you knew. If you knew he was desiring to be you, doing all he can to achieve that. Otherwise… there would have been no reason for you to be the first person  **ever** to treat him so  _ dismissingly _ . 

As the glass broke in his hand, the alcohol leaving terrific stings on the bloody cuts, his whole world seemed to come crashing down again, like the first time he met you. You were unfazed by his presence, the only one to ever not want to hang around him. Even if you were the most charming, amazing person he ever met, you were just so  _ damn cool _ .

And Rhys couldn’t keep up with you.

Considering his backstory, he should have been devastated, absolutely crashed about the realization that no matter how hard he tried, you’d always one-up him. But he wasn’t. While his eyes followed your head as you mixed in with the people, the artificial neon lights illuminating the room made your exit even more noteworthy. Rhys was left stunned by how amazing you were. You were everything, the alpha and the omega. The way you were naturally was something he couldn’t even reach if he strived for it his whole life. But he suddenly didn’t mind anymore.

He just stood there close to the exit of the room, glass and alcohol dripping from his one hand while the other clutched the carmine shirt, he was wearing, right above his heart, and grinned like the idiot he was. The desire to be like you vanished as he watched your friends pass by, watched his friends pass by. His life played out before him the same way it would do in a badly cut movie strip, reminding him of all the things he had done to become what he was. Still, all he felt was that it didn’t matter at all  _ anymore. _

Because in the end, he desired  **you** so much more than  _ anything _ else he ever wanted before.


	3. Follower

Even if the rest of the world would had told him that he can’t just follow you everywhere, it would have been likely for Rhys to ignore this advice. It wasn’t  _ bad _ , it didn’t cause  _ harm _ . So why stop? Even if it started so innocently - him tearing away from his current conversation, when he saw you out of the corner of his eyes, talking to your friends, so he could join your conversation casually - it very clearly became an issue in your eyes quickly. 

Everyone else seemed to be oblivious to his behavior. “Maybe he likes you?” one of your friends suggested as you conveyed your worries to her. “He probably just comes over to get to know you better,” another one followed up. There wasn’t really anything you could say to them without sounding rude or hysteric now, could you? Perhaps, Rhys really was crushing on you, and you completely misunderstood him, but at the same time, you just couldn’t bring yourself to trust him.

Something about him… was weird. It was hard to pinpoint, really. Rhys was friendly, funny, clever. He had plenty of words on every topic, and he helped you and your friends study or lend out his clothes. It could have been acceptable to be friends with him, talk with him, hang out. But all you felt when he looked at you was this weird suspicion that something was wrong with him.

He’d clutch tightly onto a book that you would lend him, and then not return said book for more than a month. At the same time, he was almost insistent to  _ always _ stand next to you when you two met, and his shoulder would bump into yours more than just on accident. Maybe you were just uncomfortable and wary, but you could have sworn that your fingers locked with each other as you two shared a bucket of popcorn in the cinema.

There were many,  _ many _ little things that happened with Rhys, and the number of times you’d bump into each other on the street or when grocery shopping just didn’t make any sense to you. You’d been to his place before. He lived on the other end of the bus route from yours. There was no way he’d just happen to shop at your supermarket every day, right?

“You’re interpreting too much into it,” Alex said, as you two made your way back home. You had pleaded with him to accompany you home, or else Rhys would probably have done it. “Maybe he moved? We can’t know, he’s not talking about himself that much.”

To hear these words out of Alex’s mouth felt like a backstab you didn’t expect. It had been years now that you two were best friends, and it felt just like yesterday that your mothers put you together in your crib, already influencing this friendship. If anyone should have understood you, it should have been him, right?

Even if you pondered long and hard about these mixed feelings of betrayal and frustration, your thinking was harshly interrupted as you heard Alex exclaim loudly, “Hah, man of the hour!” next to you. You lifted your eyes from the concrete street before you, the sun blinding you and making you blink until Alex passed you, blocking the light. Hand in the air, ready for a handshake, and laughing loudly, he approached your worst fear.

From behind Alex’s shoulder, you met Rhys’s familiar, citrine eyes, that you knew too well. They didn’t even waver to look at your best friend for a second, always just staring at you while his lips had an absentminded conversation with Alex. It was so surreal, knowing that something was wrong with this guy, while at the same time, everyone else didn’t notice a thing. The two exchanged pleasantries and even joked around before you stepped up to them.

At least now, you expected Alex to notice the change in behavior as Rhys just let the conversation fall into nothing, all his attention on you as he smiled at you much more sincerely than at Alex. As if he was pleased to encounter you. “Hey, [Name],” he greeted you casually as if you two were close. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, unnerved by his constant stare, the infatuated gaze he threw at you. “I went to the bookstore. Are you on your way home?”

“Why does that even concern you?” you hissed back. His expression never faltered as you glowered back at him. Seconds passed by before he cocked his head to the side, humming in contemplation. “I wonder?”

Alex must have seen it in your face that you were about to jump this guy for giving such a stupid answer despite you obviously knowing that he knew exactly what he was doing. He put his hand on your shoulder, whispering a quiet, “Keep calm,” into your direction, and you hesitantly turned to walk away. Not without another good glare into the visage of the man that was ringing all your alarm bells. You heard the two exchanging goodbyes behind your back, before Alex sprinted up to you again, giving your shoulder a friendly push. 

“What was that? I’ve never seen you so feisty before.”

“I just really don’t like this guy, okay?” you grumbled back, and Alex sighed, shaking his head.

Lucky for Rhys, you didn’t think about looking back at him, staring so longingly at your back while there were daggers in his gaze for Alex. You didn’t see the lovesickness in his eyes as his heart dismayed over the closeness you two had, something he wasn’t allowed to have with you. All you received was an earful of how nice Rhys was, and that you should give him a chance, while Rhys thought about the way your hand would fit so nicely into his when you two would go home together instead. 

Saying goodbye to Alex left a bitter taste on your mouth, knowing your best friend wasn’t as concerned about what was happening to you as you were. Frustrated and sad, you went up to your room, hitting your head into your pillow and remained there for the rest of the night, blissfully unaware of the young man standing in front of your front door. Like a dog, desperate to get in. 

But this night, Rhys couldn’t spend his sweet time soaking in the thoughts of how it would be if he got inside, cuddled up to you, with you in his arms. This night, there was someone else he had to follow. 

No one would have thought that the new day’s first news was that Alex got drunk last night with some friends and accidentally stumbled in front of a moving car. But when you were finally allowed to see him in his hospital bed, bandaged from head to toe with various machines around him trying to keep you alive, everyone could understand that you’d break down crying. He meant more to you than any other friend you had, even if you sometimes disagreed. 

You could barely bring yourself to care when the door to the room flew open behind you, but for some reason, your body still reacted, even while in shock. Rhys looked… distraught. He was sweating, his clothes washed out and old. You had never seen him so  _ imperfect _ before. He almost looked like he was real this time and not some creep that gave you goosebumps. He was just average, no trying too hard, no fake expression on his face. Just Rhys. 

The two of you just stared at each other, and you could see the hurt in his face as he eventually looked at Alex behind you. Maybe he was crying, you couldn’t tell, but the next thing you knew, he was holding you tightly, and you leaned into him without the strength to push him away. He was shaking, and so were you, but you merely clawed your hands into the hoodie he was wearing, hoping that maybe, this was just another part of a bizarre nightmare you were experiencing.

That was the only time you ever really felt anything despite wariness for Rhys. You were almost glad that he was there, holding you, rubbing your back. Had the two of them always been this close that Rhys was allowed to visit Alex like this? To be the one consoling you? Perhaps you really had thought too poorly about him when actually, he was a great guy, someone even Alex liked enough for them to get close with each other. But it didn’t matter, as of that moment, you were just glad not to be alone.

Rhys was just so happy that he had you all to himself now, he could barely contain his excitement as you nuzzled your face into his shoulder, embracing him back in your desperation. You were so warm and soft, and though you didn’t shower this morning as he was aware, you smelled just like he always thought you would. Right then and there, it seemed like he had finally made the jump from ‘follower’ to ‘friend’.

And he wanted to become so much more than that, no matter what it took to get there.


	4. Sweethearts

“Huh,” you said as Rhys collected you at your door the next morning after Alex’s accident.

“Huh,” you exclaimed as you looked out of the window of the pizza place you two had dinner, chewing on a breadstick, which probably wouldn’t sit well with your stomach later.

“Huh,” you whispered as you friends congratulated you on getting a boyfriend, and Rhys rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, not bothering to correct them.

Were you…  _ Were you two going out with each other _ ?

You were still wondering about that as you stared blankly at the TV, some random, cheesy romance-comedy flashing before your eyes. In your peripheral vision, Rhys’s arm moved up and down as he fed himself the salty chips that you two bought just two hours ago. Sometimes his fingers came up to your lips, giving you a taste of the treat and his salty fingers, and you opened your mouth as if on command.

It was weird. One day you couldn’t stand his visage, then another you had cried into his shoulder until the nurse kicked you two out, so he brought you home, and now a week later, you were cuddled up to him, watching a movie like a real couple. If someone had told you, you two would end up like this, you might have cursed them out back when you still thought so poorly of your now boyfriend. But in reality, all these days that you two presumably started dating seemed like non-existent in your head, as if you had already pushed them aside.

Apparently, it was that easy to convince your body to go along with his scheme.

Rhys had to give your very supportive friends credit, all of them peaking up at your confession that Rhys had been there for you when you needed someone to comfort you. Immediately, they had started to push you into his direction, whisper all these ideas of dates, and ‘giving the boy a chance’ into your ear. They’ve been so helpful with the task of convincing you, Rhys didn’t have to do anything for you to go out with him except ask.

Some part of him wondered if you even noticed him picking all your favorite places to go to for dates, after all, you’ve been very distraught lately. But he didn’t mind, he’d take you there again when you felt better! Being like this, you in his arms and eating out of his hand, head leaned on his chest while he could burrow his head in your hair or shoulder as he pleased, this was perfectly fine for him.

It didn’t need any great actions nor gestures. No Alex and no friends, and no one else for this blissful idyll you two had now. You were all his, and life was aligning the way it was supposed to. In the end, you two had been made for each other, after all. You were the talk of the school, the perfect couple right out of a magazine. Your relationship lacked nothing, from the supportive partners brought together by a tragic backstory to how good you looked in your matching outfits, holding hands, and sharing lunches. 

Life was good.

“Rhys…” you called out to him, your eyes fixated on the TV much to his displeasure. He’d much rather have your eyes on him all the time.

“Yeah?” 

“Do you love me?”

Admittedly, your question caught him off-guard. There wasn’t a reason for you to ask, and by how absentmindedly you watched the movie, you probably didn’t feel prompted to either. Still, he was happy to oblige, lips curling into a grin before he settled for a kiss on top of your head, sighing in satisfaction. “Yes, very much,” he admitted, feeling his own cheeks turn warm at his confession. This was almost movie-like, too, right? 

“Since when?” Your tone of voice was curious, yet, unimpressed by the very same confession filling  _ his _ body with lots of tingles and happy feelings. “Eh?” he exclaimed. 

“Since when do you like me?”

Thinking hard about what to say, Rhys couldn’t help the underlying suspicion that you were asking for a very different reason than just hearing the sentiments from his lips. “Hm, since I met you? You caught my eye and I… well, I did fall for you, remember?”

You only hummed in agreement, nodding lightly. Perhaps it was the curiosity speaking, despite him knowing the answer. Your lips against his last night had been more than enough to convey what you felt for him, and so did your body, which he held until you had to get up in the morning. “Do you love me?” he asked back, fingers digging beneath your shirt and feeling the warmth of your stomach against his fingertips, circling them around affectionately.

“I’m not sure…” you mumbled, and immediately his circling stopped, no more movement to be felt from him. Stirring, you turned to look at his face as you wondered if he stopped breathing. Instant regret overcame you as you stared into the wrinkles and pulled-together eyebrows, his expression speaking more than a thousand words.

From sparking, yellow eyes staring at you, it seemed like he was expressing ‘Say what?’ through his mimic alone. His mouth stood open slightly, just waiting for him to actually say something as his facial muscles contorted more and more into a disgusted grimace while he looked at you. Instantly, you felt a pull in your body, telling you to get away. Telling you that this was not an understanding or accepting expression he was showing you. Telling you to run.

But when you tried to get up, you didn’t get far before he roughly pulled you back against him. This was not how he wanted things to be. You two were supposed to be in love, head over heels for each other,  _ sweethearts _ ! Sweethearts didn’t say they weren’t sure if they loved each other, sweethearts were meant for each other and they knew it!

So even if he had to force you to it, you’d be his sweetheart. This night, and any other.


	5. Lead astray

Laying besides Rhys that night wasn’t pleasant. 

Even if you had the most comfortable blanket in his home, a soft pillow, and a good mattress below you, the distance between you two felt utterly cold and uninviting. There was this weird nagging that you should say something, should clear something up. As if it was your fault that the mood was quite so dampened, and perhaps, that was the truth. But at the same time, your throat was clogged, no word coming out. 

Right after your ‘confession’ you had tried to calm him, Rhys looking terribly irritated with you. But he merely got up, put on a jacket, and left without a word. Being alone in his apartment felt weird and wrong, and you walked back and forth the tiny one-room for a while, wondering what you should do. First, you sat down in the bed again, thinking maybe you could ignore your concern with some more TV, but you soon enough couldn’t stand sitting around unmoving, texting him to ask where he was and if everything was okay with him. 

All of your doubts aside, by now, you couldn’t help but care about him. You’ve come to know him as a strong stone in your waves of life, and he had been there for you when no one else had. Even if you didn’t love him - which, perhaps, you did after all… maybe. It confused you - sending him out in the deep darkness of the night without knowing where he went still gave you a stomach ache. 

You considered leaving, but what then? Who else would you turn to, and what would you do without him by your side? Were you just going to swallow the ‘asshole pill’ and ditch him like this? After he really didn’t do anything to you? What would your friends think if they found out about this? What would _ Alex _ think if he found out you led Rhys on and let him fall like a hot potato anyway, despite him being nothing but good to you?

No… No, you really couldn’t just up and run. Rhys loved you, he deserved some recognition for his feelings, and since he cared so much, you should have felt the same, right? No matter your past, he was nothing but a good guy, sweet and caring, helpful, and funny. He didn’t deserve you being quite so complicated and rude about this relationship, right?

_ Right? _

It nagged you. It nagged you more than anything in the world that even after giving in to this relationship, you still felt there was something bad or wrong with him. But this look he gave you as you told him you didn’t love him… this sharp, piercing glare, and the absolute silence he created by just leaving, this all rose some red flags that you didn’t know how to handle.

Should you tell anyone? Would someone even believe you? Rhys didn’t do anything wrong, but  _ you _ did. You hurt his feelings, pushing him away as always. You were sure people would point that out, but you couldn’t let your doubts go, no matter what.

It must have been 3 hours until he came back. You had already settled in for the night, deciding on staying. Not like you could sleep, but the front door crashing into its lock still made you flinch. You were quick to throw the blanket off and run to the door, out of breath as if you just ran a marathon. Rhys only looked up for a split second. Too little to decide if what you saw as a reflection in his eyes was anger or sadness, but he gave you a quick excuse of “needing some air” and “running to the 24-hours store” which you took without complaining. It would have been a perfect moment to apologize, but the words got stuck in your throat, unable to come out, and he simply passed you by and took a shower before crawling into bed next to you.

“Rhys…” you mumbled, turning towards him, only the sight of his back in your view. You gave his shoulder a light pat and heard him take a deep breath before he turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling. How uncomfortable you felt with him not talking at all, merely drumming his fingers on his stomach, visible because of the moonlight shining in from the window. 

“I’m sorry, Rhys,” you whispered, turning to him and hugging his arm that was closest to you. “We are still so new together. I just… I just don’t think I can certainly say I love you yet.”

“Yet?” he was quick to retort, and it made you realize by the strength in his voice that he hadn’t been sleeping at all, even though the alarm clock already told you it was past three in the morning. “Y-Yeah, maybe after we’ve been together longer, I’ll know how I feel.”

“And if you don’t?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing instantly on his face. “If you are just going to break up with me and leave me, I don’t know if we should be sharing this bed, or breakfast, or anything really…”

“Rhys, no…” You could feel the mix of emotions burning up in the corner of your eyes. Frustration, anger, disappointment. You didn’t want to lose what you had with him, even if you had your doubts about your feelings. If you were to lose him too, others would follow because it was apparent that it was a mistake on your part. You’d be all alone, and you didn’t want to end up even more lonely than you already were without Alex by your side, who still hadn’t woken up from his coma. 

Brilliant, citrin eyes focused on you as Rhys turned his head, estimating your emotions by your expression. “I won’t leave you,” you mumbled, gulping down the overwhelming fear you felt thinking about him leaving you instead. Hesitating for another long second, he rolled over, arms on both sides of your body, and leaning down to kiss away the tears in your eyes that you had tried to hold back. You stretched out your neck to kiss him back as his mouth came close enough, hoping that the gesture would soothe the aching in both of your hearts a little bit. But even when you tried your hardest to reach him, he merely ducked down, his cheeks sliding along yours, avoiding your affection.

“If you mean it, prove it to me,” he whispered into your ear before laying down beside you again. The look he was giving you was expectant and a tad challenging, as he pulled on the strings of his sweatpants, loosening them up. Your eyes followed his movements before flitting up to his again for a moment, unsure if you should act on his demand or if this was finally the moment you’d bolt out of this house and his clutches.

Body moving before you had even thought this through, you found yourself sitting in his lap, and he crossed his arms behind his head, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face, knowing he had won. There had always been a choice for you. You could have tried to get away and not play along to his strings. But if you were truthful, both options - staying and leaving - were terrible. All you could do now was estimate the damage you’d get from both of them and chose the one that  _ seemed _ much less harmful. Even if it was going to bite you later, you chose the easier option. The comfortable one. The one that wouldn’t immediately hurt you. The one  _ he _ led you to believe was the right one. And the one he polished and nourished with preparations and patience. The one that felt safe and right to you.

Had he not lead you astray on your thinking so much, you might have realized that this choice was the worst one you could have made.


	6. Knife

In truth, Rhys was never gone. 

He stood in front of the apartment door, waiting for you to come out. It was disappointing and embarrassing of you to say you didn’t love him after his confession, even though he was so sure you would feel the same. But at the same time, it was dark, late, and he had nowhere to go either. And so he waited, wanting to see what you’d do. He heard you walking back and forth by pressing his ear to the door, and he reveled in the knowledge that this situation was causing you distress too.

But on the other hand, he wasn’t as worried as you were.

It was basic, simple, society-math that he did, way before you’d even notice it. From the very beginning, Rhys had made you a comfortable place at his side. He made you feel safe and understood, and most importantly: Wanted and acknowledged. You were fragile and lost when Alex was torn away as a safe pillar in your life. Even before that, your friends had started being suspicious of you for how much you went against Rhys - who they knew as nothing but a sweet guy - and when you two had come together, they felt confirmed in their theory that he liked you. You had just played hard to get.

So, in the end, even if they were  _ your _ friends, they actually were on his side. It surely was dawning on you how alone you were by now, how isolated if you didn’t have Rhys. But that was okay. It was a struggle he’d put on you for the sake of changing the way you were thinking. In his opinion, the end justified all means, and you were a victim to a simple one yet.

Dimming his phone, he only looked at the messages you sent him in your regretful state of mind. The voicemails were saved as favorites, but he didn’t listen to them. He could hear you clearly and well through the door as you were still speaking them. It delighted him to listen to the tiny bit of cracking in your voice, a hint of panic and worry swinging in it as you asked where he was, and for him to come home.

In his hand, the pocket knife clicked as he opened it up and closed it again, over and over. It wasn’t loud enough to really catch the attention of anyone, but it soothed him, knowing he had it with him. Not like he  _ wanted _ to use that, but he was so curious how you’d react seeing him with it. 

As surreal as it sounded, part of him wanted you to dare him to use it. Wanted to see you flee from him. Rhys wanted to know so badly what you’d do, wondering about your opinion if you saw  _ this  _ side of him. If you didn’t love him now, what would you think if he did anything that would destroy the good image he gave you of himself?

There were compelling images in his mind, but Rhys was not a sadist. As much as he liked to know what you’d do, how you’d look, what would happen if, he was happy you didn’t come running out the door. It wasn’t cold, and no time was too long for the reward you were giving him with not leaving, showing him he didn’t need to worry at all. He was right; you were his already. Mind and body, all belonging to him, and he could feel every fiber of his being tingle with excitement.

Going back into his apartment, it was so hard to hide his smile as you ran to greet him. Like a puppy that was so happy that he returned, and you fiddled around him, searching for his attention. He only allowed himself a small glance at you, feeling the bothersome heat in his loins even before he saw you in your sleeping wear. You were right at home, weren’t you? 

And Rhys was burning for you to now prove your impatient mess of thoughts that all revolved around him.

He wouldn’t have needed a shower, but he didn’t dare to mess up his chances now by rushing anything. Packing himself up nicely in his sweatpants and top, it was dark as he got out of the bathroom. Still, you reared up as he came out, shuffling to make space for his body, and helping him settle in. Apparently, you were unable to catch any sleep as long as he wasn’t lying beside you. Rhys would have liked to praise you for it but remained composed even while feeling more and more attracted to you than he already was.

However, hearing you say you wouldn’t leave him, just hit differently. Even the most composed and calm man would face a heavily beating heart when his lover told him these words. These tiny bits of submission, of acknowledgment, and dedication to him was enough to make him shiver. Rhys felt weak to the bones as he asked you to prove it, and when you climbed on top of him, that could have been the end of his life, and he wouldn’t have minded it at all. 

Faintly he noticed the embarrassment on your face. Still, the meaningful gasp you let out as he pressed himself into you from beneath was enough to get him even more riled up. 

Oh, what a pretty, little thing you were, quite so remorseful and helplessly in his grasp.

For another moment, he glanced at the bedside-table, assuring himself that it was still there if he needed it. Next to the phone and a magazine was where he put the little silver thing, sometimes shining in the moonlight and catching his eyes. Rhys wondered if you noticed it too, but every time he moved or touched you, he knew by your reaction that your mind was very much besides wondering what this thing could be. 

And for everyone involved, it was probably better that you didn’t know anything about the pocket knife so close to you.


	7. Touch [NSFW]

There was something different about Rhys when compared to other lovers you had before him.

Every one of his touches was so greedy, rash, and unpredictable. As if it was his goal to devour you, and he was attacking you much more than he was caressing you. His hand would be on top of your hip and then suddenly beneath your thigh, clenching down into your flesh to the point it was tear-inducing.

You didn’t have much time to complain as just a second later, he’d rapidly change the position again, and his hand would find a new place to linger. So far, you had only known the passionate love-making with someone you cared about, and - you assumed - cared about you too. It left a weird feeling in your mind that Rhys could say he loved you while he treated you so roughly at the same time. 

“W-Wait, slow down,” you asked of him in the heat of the moment. It was hard to outright admit that whatever he was feeling, you definitely did not feel when he was so passionate about it. The ecstatic in his face was clear as the moonlight, his voice so enamored no matter what sound he made. But more than once did you feel a sting of pain as his member penetrated you. You had been barely ready when you two started, and you still weren’t entirely adjusted to him pounding into you.

From an onlooker’s and his own point of view, Rhys  _ was _ loving. He did kiss up and down the leg that laid over his shoulder, and murmured sweet nothings into your ear if the position allowed it. At the same time though, he held your hand so tight it was as if he was trying to crush your bones. The mattress you always thought was comfy felt like cement in your back as he pressed you into it, made you arch your back, and buried your shoulders deep.

However, the worst was when he wrapped his hands around your throat.

Perhaps for some, this was a pleasant experience. Build on trust and knowing what both of the participants were doing, this could have been nice. But to you, it was literal torture. You gasped as you pulled at his arms, tearing out the little hairs on them, trying to fill your lungs with the air he wasn’t allowing you. But it seemed to only spur him on, his movements becoming even more rapid. 

This… this was not how you wanted to be loved. Rhys had made a point to ignore your comments in favor of ravaging you more, so talking to him was useless. Even when you stemmed your right leg into his hip, he didn’t stop, but he at least let go of your throat in favor of caressing your thigh again, moving your foot out of the way. 

With your body already aching under his constant, harassing touches, you couldn’t bear to look at him genuinely. Your expressions were different, like day and night, his full of adoration and excitement, and yours pained and fearful. You felt the soreness at your entrance and the bruising of your skin. There were streaks of red all over you, all showing what you’ve been through and who put them on you. 

At least to him, you were even more beautiful than ever, with all the blemish.

You were like an extraordinarily rare present, all suited to his taste and made for him. Even if you wriggled or put on a stern expression, Rhys still loved every inch of your body. And he loved it the way he thought was right so that you’d know he loved you too. By the way you’d mutter his name, or gasp and moan whenever he hit the right spot, you told him that you understood too, and it was almost as if you two knew each other for a while, rather than just two weeks.

But that all didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t a pleasant experience at all, and you were nothing but thankful when it finally ended, his body slumping on top of you while Rhys caught his breath. Now more than ever did you just want to be comforted and told everything was okay, especially with how anxious every fiber of your being felt - both from the happenings that evening and the sex.

As if he could read those thoughts, Rhys propped himself on his underarms, hands brushing over the curve of your head, a few, fluttering kisses all over your cheekbones, nose, and lips. “Don’t push me away again, okay?” he mumbled soothingly, and you leaned into his hand before nodding. It was still the same Rhys, but he almost felt like a different person entirely, calm and caring again. 

In the end, he was a different person entirely once he wasn’t overcome with passion, and you preferred this one much more. It only showed again that you perhaps weren’t thinking too positively about him, but he wasn’t a bad person in the end. In the morning, when everything was calmer, you’d talk with him about his behavior and how it hurt you.

But now, you were just relieved he wasn’t angry anymore, as he assured you when he planted more kisses on your face. You reciprocated them, slinging your arms around his neck to kiss him back properly. His arms around you were warm and comforting, just what you needed. As quick as he had become affectionate, he sighed blissfully and relieved himself of your hold, making a trip to the bath to clean up. Instantly, you missed his embrace when it suddenly vanished as he got up to refresh himself in the bathroom. Now alone, it was pretty cold, and you dug for the blanket to cover yourself, contemplating putting on a shirt for the night, but before you could think it over, he was back, slipping under the covers close to you.

Even with your bodies snuck against each other, it wasn’t uncomfortable now, and you feared breaking this intimacy if you were to say you wanted to get up real quick too. This evening had exhausted you in more than one way, and if you were honest, you just wanted it to be over now. It was already in the early hours of the morning, and you’d have to get up semi-early again, so all you wanted was some peace and more importantly: Rest for your roused soul.

And at least now, with his fingers intertwined with yours and his arm around you, warming you, his touch was very much bearable.


	8. Sleep

With your breathing steadying and your body relaxing in his hold, Rhys was sure that you finally left the real world in favor of your dreams. All the worries and doubts you were harboring simply vanished the moment that you laid your head to rest as if they had never happened. Even if they were haunting your dreams, your body let nothing show that you were in any way uncomfortable.

It was the moment that Rhys, too, started to relax. 

No matter what happened and how it happened, the evening had been stressful for him too. All the more, he simply enjoyed having you in his arms now, your fingers curled around his as you held on to him, and your body warm and tender as it snuggled up against his. You fitted so perfectly into his form, every open space filled out with a limb of yours. You two were just perfect for each other.

Even before you became his, he enjoyed watching you sleep. You had a good mix of action and movement in your deep sleep, before staying completely still, almost unbreathing. Rhys should have slept back then. Just gone home or laid beside you, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up from the chair facing your bed, watching you in silence. Hands on his lap and eyes on your body, he remained like this for hours until the sunrise threatened to wake you up.

Only once had you woken up in a night that he watched you. First, you looked out of the window, eyes opening and closing while you were half-asleep. Then you curled yourself together into a ball, and that’s when you saw him. You only stared, and you stared for a long time. Perhaps you thought he was just an illusion, a night-terror even. “Rhys…” you had muttered, but before long, you closed your eyes again and were gone. 

The next day you shot him terrible glances, but he was still enamored by the first time you called him by his name; he forgave you for them.

But ever since you and he got together, you’ve been calling him more often in your sleep, and Rhys adored you for it. Admittedly, sometimes you also muttered, “Alex,” but Rhys would be the bigger man and not throw a hissy-fit every time you did that. Alex was your… childhood friend. It was only natural you’d call for him. Your mind didn’t know yet that he’d never return to how he was, and it sought for the comfort that Alex always gave you. The same comfort that Rhys was now taking upon himself to provide.

All he needed now was time. Time for you to heal from the shock of hearing about your best friend’s accident. Time to establish his own position in your heart. And time to completely consume you and  _ your _ time, until there was no one else left for you to think or dream about. Rhys couldn’t wait for that to happen.

Until then, he’d be satisfied with just holding you, and being the one you held onto. This night again should have shown you who you needed to be with to get what you needed. Neither Alex nor your friends could take away the loneliness you were feeling at that time. Even if you sought it out, did you not find the satisfying results you wanted when you weren’t with Rhys. 

To say that his skills of imitating and adapting had become useful in a new way had been an understatement. You were an open book to him now, your needs clearly written on your face whenever you looked at him. Rhys had observed the way people hugged you long before Alex fell into a coma, figuring out how you preferred to be held. Especially the time watching you came in handy now, all your favorites - favorite dishes, scents, restaurants, clothing brands - were now at his disposal to lure you back in whenever you were especially suspicious of him again.

With his free hand, he brushed over your head, a cozy sigh escaping you. Rhys knew which touches you liked, knew how you enjoyed your beverage in the morning, and also what movies interested you and which didn’t. No one ever again could love you like Rhys did. No one would either. He’d be your beginning and end. And when your college life ended, he’d take you far away from any disturbances to your love, cut the connections to all the people you two didn’t need anymore, and keep you safe somewhere sheltered and suited to your taste. 

No matter what path in life you’d decide on, he’d always be by your side, watching over you and keeping you from harm. Rhys wouldn’t mind if you started a small business in the town you two would eventually settle in. He’d support you in it and do the hard work for which you could admire him. He wouldn’t even mind if you decided to never leave the house you two will be buying, become a shut-in if you so liked to. No matter what you’d do, you couldn’t disappoint Rhys, ever. As long as he was with you, he’d always love you, and that wouldn’t change even on days that you’d cause trouble for him or insult him for anything he did.

Rhys would always be with you.

You could spend your days never talking to him again until you were old and brittle, and he’d still adore your mouth, remembering your voice fondly. Or you could try and hurt him to the point he had to restrain you so that even if you couldn’t touch him anymore, he’d still adore the way your hand felt with your wrist cuffed to a frame. No matter how awful you’d be, he’d always love you. 

And if you woke up one day, loving him, then he’d be overjoyed.

Until then, it was enough that he could finally hold you in your sleep. Though old habits die hard, he was still happiest seeing you so perfectly content in your dream world. Hopefully, you were dreaming of him too, as would he when he finally rested his head on yours. Because you were his everything, his beginning, and end. Even in his sleep, did he not want to miss the image of you, and as things were right now, he had no reason to fear that he wouldn’t be dreaming about you. He was the earth, and you were the sun, and everything in his life revolved around you now. Past, present, and future.

His reality and his dreams.


	9. Odd

"What's wrong, Babe?" Rhys asked, holding the cold soda can to your cheek. He had just returned from fetching you two some drinks for your lunch break, only to find you sitting on a bench, staring into the vast nothingness before you. Usually, the field in front of you would be littered with other students, but that day, it was swept clean of anyone that could want to take a break there for whatever reason there was.

"I just met Ashley…" you explained, taking the can from his hand and played with the cap while you thought. "Mars was with her, and the two of them were… odd."

"Odd?" Rhys emphasized your statement, brows coming together in confusion. "What did they do?"

"They just-" Opening the can, you took a long sip as you thought, tapping the metal for a few more seconds after you lowered it. "-They ignored me. Waved and ran off, that's odd, isn't it?"

"Hm, maybe they were in a hurry."

You gave a silent nod at his simple explanation, not minding him munch away on a sandwich next to you as you thought about the encounter. These actually weren't the first friends that you met lately that seemed to avoid you, and though it nagged you, you couldn't find any better explanations than the ones Rhys offered to you either. As far as you were concerned, there was nothing wrong with you, or you had an argument with one of them that would split your friend group either.

And as much as Rhys was concerned, you hadn't seen the talks about you in the online chat forum of your college.

Supposedly, someone found out that you and Alex had a disagreement that day, through one source or another. There were many people to be found that just loved that kind of gossip and would turn even the most innocent things into something ominous and bad. Really bad. Bad as in saying you drove him to drink and walk in front of the car. Some even suggested you were there to push. Of course, there were plenty who said that wasn't the case, but the opinions split and gnawed on everyone reading them.

There were thirsty wolves out there that you sweet, poor sheep should never meet. You were lucky to have Rhys to keep you safe from them most of the time, but that didn't stop the whispers coming from the big, dark forest called the campus.

And just like that, you were the talk of the town, without even knowing it.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, watching you stare into the distance, your eyes full of disappointment. It wasn't like he outright admitted anything on the internet about you, but he might have left some hints. Rhys wouldn't want you to suffer because of his doings, but having your friends be suspicious of you, suited him. It just gave you another reason to stick around, since he was more or less the last one not avoiding you. If Alex had been there, you would have stuck to him like glue, but he wasn't. And he wouldn't be there for you anymore either.

"What did you want to ask them?" he brought forth between bites.

"Mhm, Karaoke. We haven't been in a while, so I thought it would be fun to get together and sing for a bit. Lately, all we do is watch movies…"

"And that's so bad?" he insisted on continuing from your words. Your answer was hesitant and prefaced with a long sigh and a shake of your head. The last thing you wanted now was to upset him with an ill-considered response. "No, it's been fun." Giving him a weak smile, you cuddled up to his shoulders - avoiding the need to express yourself more enthusiastically - picking on your own sandwich as he hummed thoughtfully, watching you shove pieces of bread and salad into your mouth slowly.

"I just wanted to do something with everyone together, that's all."

Rhys could hear the sulkiness in your voice, your mood deflated by not getting what you wanted. Inwardly, it made his heart jump a little, thinking how cute you were getting upset about something minor like this. He slung his arm around your back, rubbing through hair playfully before giving your forehead a long, cheesy smooch, laughing as you complained loudly about his doings.

"Maybe I can get some people together, and we can go, how about that? Would you like that?" he asked, and you looked up, your gaze softening from an indignant glare to an admiring spark. "Really? You think someone will go with us?"

"Of course ~" he mused, and you gave the corner of his smile a big kiss as a 'thank you' to him. Rhys gladly took the opportunity to fetch a real kiss from your lips, you two love-birds on the bench being mostly alone anyway. "That would be lovely," you sighed, landing some more fluttering kisses on his face. "I look forward to going out again. Thank you, Rhys!"

"Anytime," he assured you, getting in one more kiss before returning to eating his sandwich. Rhys was sure that he still had some people to call and get together, and if it made you happy, then so be it. He'd have you sing your heart out and earn some more alone time with you for the rest of the week.

Oh, how the tables had changed.

Had anyone told little teenager Rhys that the day would come that he wasn't the odd one, he wouldn't have believed them. However, looking at you now, it didn't seem so far off anymore, especially with the way that people gave you suspicious looks and made a face when they encountered you. Nothing that would make him stop loving you more every day, but it was a fascinating play that only he seemed to notice while you were busy with your millions of thoughts that you liked to overthink.

'Odd' was a funny word to describe you two, he thought, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his on this very peculiar day.


	10. Pretty

Rhys never used his phone as he waited for you to get changed in a clothing store. Simply, because he’d hate to miss the moment, you’d come out, and there was no one more important he could be texting right now than you were behind that curtain. Even if you didn’t act in any special way, for him, it was a little personal show when you’d finally come out and present yourself. Another shirt he’d take off you later, another thing that made you prettier than you already were.

Despite not demanding that he buys you stuff, you had a knack for finding beautiful accessories and clothes even if the two of you were just browsing shelves of window shopping from outside. At least, when you put the things on, they were beautiful on you. No matter how hideous it might seem on a mannequin, the instant you formed it into your outfit, it became beautiful. That was just your talent.

Or perhaps, it was just in Rhys’s eyes.

Nevertheless, you were a pretty person inside out. There were no nasty habits he would call anything but cute, and you didn’t wear things he found scandalous. You even partnered with him sometimes, and he loved how adorable you looked wearing his clothes, even if it was just an old shirt for sleeping. Everything just suited you well, and he couldn’t be prouder to show you off in the streets, you two looking like you sprung out of a fashion magazine.

But those were not the only pretty things about you. There was also your voice, your laugh, the way you hummed in the kitchen and sighed. He could tell if you were okay or not whenever your voice would break in the middle of a sentence, and Rhys couldn’t stop laughing when you did, entirely thrilled by the sound. That’s how beautiful your voice was.

Then your ideas. Of course, not everything you said was a useful connection of words. Still, they never were any less pretty or meaningless because of that. Even if it was just an anecdote about your mother eating cucumbers, he always loved hearing about it. And something even more beautiful was the spark in your eyes as he listened to you, feeling confirmed in your thoughts with Rhys giving you all of his attention.

There was nothing that Rhys could find that wasn’t absolutely stunning in his eyes. From the wrinkles when you smiled, to the streaks of red on your body when he touched you. Sometimes, he liked to apply them just out of fun, rather than any intentions. He’d watch your skin turn red, and then the marks disappearing again slowly. Watching you always was a better idea than the TV or other people nearby.

Nothing in this world could ever captivate him as much as you did, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

When he pushed his face into your shoulder as you finally came out in your new, breathtaking garment, he hugged you tightly, taking in your smell and the way your chest heaved with every breath. Your heartbeat was the prettiest in the whole world, and the sweetest sound ringing in his ears. Even if you weren’t that close, if he felt desperate enough, he could imagine the sound of it, calming himself down with the thought alone. That’s how much he adored it.

If Rhys could, he would have written you a song about how much he loved you, or perhaps, poetry. Maybe paint a picture? Sadly, with his task of learning to fit into the society around him, he never picked up an actual hobby. Nothing he couldn’t discard after a few weeks again. There was no guitar he could play, and no text to recite.

But what he could do is imagining you and the future you two would have.

He could imagine the pretty house you’d own, with a pretty garden, and a pretty pool in it. The stainless steel kitchen, the smell of freshly cooked dinner, the feeling of your favorite colored bedsheets after a shower. A fridge full of food, a pet in your lap as you read a book. The way he’d kiss your pretty head when finding you after his shower, and the way you’d stretch out your neck to meet his lips with yours.

Grinning to himself, he couldn’t help the excitement about your future wedding, everybody so jealous of the perfect pair standing in front of the altar. The honeymoon he’d whisk you away on, just you two alone on an island with no one there to bother you as you consumed your love all the way for seemingly endless days straight, sounded mouth-watering already. Completed with its perfect peacefulness and the pretty sunsets you’d be able to see.

Rhys also thought of all the times after that, that you’d be alone after. All the times spent doing mundane house tasks together, the passionate and the tender nights you’d spend. Perhaps… a family? He kind of liked that idea, even if he wanted to keep you to himself for as long as possible, one day, it might be nice if you and he could bring a child into your family one way or another. Share the love between you two with someone who needed it.

But until then, he’d keep all of these pretty thoughts in his head, only for his heart to consume and pound like crazy every time they came up. When he released you from his hug, he gave your backside a teasing slap, watching as you grew adorably flustered and hopped back into the changing room. But not without giving him another sweet glare, the people around hushing their voices over that gesture. Though, this all didn’t matter, as long as you were all Rhys could focus on.

You, the love of his life. The person he’d spent all these years with, and claim the future together.

His pretty little thing.


	11. Possession

Months ago, you would have sworn on your newborn that Rhys was a strange guy. By now, it was hard to remember why you thought this badly of him, but you knew there had been a lot of underlying suspicions. Catching him staring at you in class, his eyes so fixated on movements you did. And then how he slowly but surely crept into your friend group, captivating everyone’s attention with his looks and sweet demeanor. 

But none of this ever felt ‘natural’.

It was like there was an underlying motive in his actions, and to your discomfort, you thought that reason was you. Admittedly, others thought that too. It wasn’t like you were imagining this on your own. At the same time, Rhys didn’t strike you as your type. Where your friends were praising his helpfulness and kind smile, all you could think of were his eyes that always came back to you, as if he needed to make sure you were still there without ever talking a word with you first. 

When he approached you at the party… you felt scared. You didn’t want to stand and talk as if everything was alright with someone who looked at you as if he was going to drool any second now. No matter your relationship-experience, this wasn’t how someone should approach you, and you thought it was weird that he never asked you on a date if he had any interest in you. 

If you were honest, he still didn’t really feel like your boyfriend now.

There was no saying if you loved him by now, as you two had gotten together in the face of a tragedy. Now, almost a year later, it was habitual. Rhys prepared the red carpet for you in his life, and you liked walking it. He took you on dates, bought you things, tried his best to make you happy. He held and cuddled you, kissed away your tears, and his roughness whenever you got intimate also got better. Technically, he was doing everything right.

At the same time, you felt lonely on your dates. He wasn’t a big talker, and he didn’t have many hobbies to speak of. The few intellectual conversations you had, were led and mostly talked by you. After a while, he started to buy you things even if you weren’t with him, coming home with another gift every time he had more lessons than you in college. They were all things you’d have liked if you saw them while out, and it was freaking you out how accurately he knew your taste. Not even your mother knew it as closely as Rhys did.

His arms felt like seatbelts around you when he held you, less loving, more pulling you into him. You could have argued it felt safe, but at the same time, it seemed more self-serving, and as if he was absorbing you. And the tears he kissed away, he hushed you alongside the affection, wanting to make you stop as quickly as possible. Was your sadness reasonless in his eyes? Or was he just uncomfortable? Were tears not shed over him less worthy than how you felt in these moments?

That was what bothered you most as the tears spilled while you held Alex’s hand. He looked mangled, completely dried out, less alive than dead. But he was breathing on his own again, words slowly leaving his mouth as he conversed with you in chipper phrases. Some part of you pitied him, but at the same time, you were just so happy to have your friend back. Even if his voice cracked under every word he muttered, he joked with you, and the comfort it brought you was different from how Rhys treated you. 

Rhys, on the other hand, clawed his hands into your shoulders tightly. From an outsider’s point of view, it probably looked like he was steadying you and keeping you upright on your little chair, so you wouldn’t fall over sobbing. It seemed like he was helping you, but really, all it did was hurt you. For the first time in months, you were  _ living _ . Seeing your best friend again, talking and joking, just how he had always been, was exhilarating! The reason for your happiness was coming back to you, the sun returning in your life. Looking back at the time behind you, you realized how grey and cloudy it had been, even with Rhys by your side. 

Perhaps some part of you already realized it as you listened to Alex tell you about the awful food they were serving him, which you laughed at with him, even though Rhys only smirked. You really did love Alex. Even if it wasn’t the conclusive romantic love you were feeling, you simply loved being with him, seeing him, hanging around with him. It was sad that something like this accident had to happen for you to realize it. But even if you loved him only like a best friend or brother, you most certainly loved him.

You couldn’t say any of these about Rhys in comparison.

When the nurses finally kicked you two out, you reflexively took Rhys’s hand as you left, it being common for you to hold hands. “I am happy for you two,” Alex noted. The jest was out of his voice, and he only looked at you when he spoke them. For a moment, you felt as if you were struck by lightning, your body tensing as a feeling of something being wrong overcame you. How odd that you were barely able to reply something to such a nice well-wishing. But perhaps, the thing throwing you up the most was that sad spark in Alex’s eyes.

Rhys did you a favor in answering, thanking Alex for his blessing, before saying goodbye to him. Pulling you along, you could only look back after your shoulder, you two never stopping to look at each other until you were out of the room and Rhys shut the door firmly. This was nothing anyone could expect, and you felt lost in your thoughts as you two left the hospital quietly. Up until Rhys suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, you hadn’t even noticed the nasty expression he watched you with, knowing too well what was on your mind.

“I forgot my phone,” he laughed, feigning embarrassment. “Will you wait for me? I’ll run back real quick and fetch it from his room.”

Confused, you blinked, your hand letting go of his as he hesitated, looking at you for a moment more before turning and disappearing into the building again. Of course, you’d wait. But what was that last glance of his? As if he was disappointed. Should you have gone with him?

In reality, Rhys was merely disappointed by the turn of events. Hadn’t he done everything for you in the last few months? Wasn’t it him who took care of you and comforted you? So why would you glance at Alex with those lovestruck eyes of yours, as if you just found your one true love again? With a pillow he grabbed from one of the hospital beds standing in the hallway, he marched back to the room, his expression absolutely void of emotions. Rhys couldn’t care about people coming his way, and they too didn’t seem to care, living all their happy lives.

He, too, would live his happy life again when the most bothersome thing he ever encountered finally was taken out of service. He had to give it to Alex for being persistent, but Rhys saw how weak he was still. There would be no saving from a collapse anymore if it happened now. Greeting the nurse that just left Alex’s room with a smile, he explained he just forgot his phone and remembered Alex mention he wanted another pillow, so he fetched one. She smiled, praising him for being such a good friend.

And yes, he was such a good friend.

But not to Alex. Only to you. For you, he’d go so far as to get rid of a nuisance destroying your future together. You didn’t need anyone else but Rhys, and he’d prove it to you one way or another. Rhys was the only one, and you were the only one for Rhys. You were his! His, and no one else’s!

Alex wouldn’t take you away from him now or ever again.


	12. Pain

On that day, you lost both of the most important persons in your life.

The call didn’t come until it was already time to go to bed. You and Rhys had already settled in, teasing each other a bit before bed and joking around. Despite the many questions in your head, you had been in a good mood. Rhys too seemed to lighten up under your influence, you two chasing each other around the table and wrestling playfully for the last potato chip - which, naturally, he gave to you.

It was a pleasant evening and having your eyes closed already, you wanted to ignore the buzzing phone next to you. Rhys actually gave it to you, telling you to just answer it and get it over with, and despite not knowing what he already knew, you wished you hadn’t obliged to his request. The news of Alex’s passing didn’t actually reach you properly, the phone merely sinking into your lap as you listened to his mother’s sobbing, the line cutting before either of you could speak your condolences for the loss.

Crying all night was an option, but you simply couldn’t. It was a strange pain of getting something back that was so rejuvenating, so reviving, and then suddenly, it was gone entirely. It didn’t hurt, and at the same time, you felt like your whole body simply gave up. As if your will to live wasn’t nearly as present as your need to fall into the mattress and never get up again. All you could do when Rhys asked you what was wrong, concern on his voice after hearing Alex’s mom cry on the telephone, was repeat her words.

Alex, complications, problems with breathing, dead. 

_Alex. Complications. Problems with breathing._ **Dead**.

Dead. Simply dead.

This was no matter of, “Hopefully, he’ll wake up again once his body stabilizes.” It wasn’t even, “He had an accident, but treatment came quickly so he will survive but stay in a coma.” This was the final. The end. Nothing after it. After death, no one spoke of recovery or waking up. You could pray for a wonder, but the moment that one doctor announced the time of death, it was done. 

And now, you couldn’t even cry about it.

Instead, you laughed once. Shrugging your shoulders, you looked at Rhys, his arms already stretched out. In the dark, you couldn’t see what he saw, but he probably thought you were going to collapse or some shit again. He said something, but you didn’t hear it, the pain blocking out any sound like white noise. You simply laid down and turned over, unwilling to face your boyfriend of a year. 

The next day, you didn’t get up. Or the day after. 

Whatever drove you to get up on day three was nothing you could name. Probably, the feeling of responsibility that you had to attend the funeral of your best friend, who passed away too early, but you didn’t say a word all this time. Even when people hugged you and tried to comfort you, you didn’t react, and you didn’t hear the whispers of how they called you a ‘poor soul’ and your boyfriend a ‘handsome, strong man’ by your side. 

Life was not good, but in the ride back home, Rhys told you that it would go on. 

Even if you didn’t believe him.

After a week of not going to college, you started to notice sounds again. The expecting tapping of Rhys’s fingers as he waited for you to crawl out of bed and sit on the table to eat with him. The way he laughed without a worry in the world about a TV show you two watched together. You started to notice the noise again when you two went out of the house, Rhys forcing you and pulling you along to go and eat at another instagramable hot-spot he chose. 

Only once did you see your reflection, noticing how pale you looked, almost like Alex in his hospital bed. And from behind you, you could see the sharp eyes of your protector, seeing the same as you did, an empty shell only pulled along to have fun. That was when… something just broke in him, after days of holding himself back for your sake. His pretty, perfect facade crumbling as he gave you a nasty glare, expression crunching up. You remembered this expression. It was the same as when you told him you didn’t love him. Only now, it was pure anger. 

Anger that you were still grieving. Anger that you didn’t appreciate what he did for you. Anger that you didn’t return to how you were before, a loving couple without these problems. Picture perfect.

To some point, you understood him, wishing you could do better for him. But you couldn’t, your body wouldn’t let you, your mind wouldn’t let you. All you could was comply with his rough pulls as he turned on his heels and went back home again, angrily. So, so angry.

“I can’t take you anywhere! You are such a downer! Why can’t you just be happy when I take you out?! I am doing everything I can!” 

All you did was listen to his rambles as you stumbled after him over the cobblestone path. “I’ve been nothing but good to you!”

“It hurts,” you mumbled, your eyes watching as his hand squeezed tightly around your wrist. So much, you thought you’d lose feeling in your fingers. “It hurts! It hurts, that’s all you are saying! ‘It hurts’, ‘Alex’, and ‘no’! When we are together or when you sleep, that’s all I ever get from you!”

Pushing you into his apartment, he shut the door loudly, and - to your surprise - closed all the locks available to him. It didn’t matter to him that you were still pushing off your shoes, one of them coming off as he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you further inside, while the other one remained on your foot. Throwing you on the bed, he proceeded to close the curtains, you had always been sure were just show, the room darkening, yet not darken too much. However, with a flick on the light switch of the bedside table lamp, it turned on, making you blink a few times when you suddenly felt his weight on the bed around you, his body straddling you effortlessly and pinning you down. Even with just one hand, he could keep your arms above your head, and though your legs were free, there was nothing you could have used them for from your position.

Opening your eyelids again, all you could see was the brilliant citrine yellow of his eyes and the flashing of silver in his free hand. “This needs to stop,” he announced coldly. “You didn’t even cry once about Alex yet. You’ve been bottling it up and up even more, and you keep being this awful version of yourself. But I will help you. I don’t want to do this, but it’s on me. I will help you return to normal, for your sake. You have to believe me…”

Words trailing of, Rhys gulped, and you thought his expression turned sourly, nose scrunching up as if he was about to… cry. “I love you. I do all of this because I love you.”

“That’s why I will show you what real pain is like.”


	13. Comfort

Cradling you in his arms, Rhys rocked back and forth calmly. Every now and then, he sniffled loudly, and you did the same. Sometimes tears still fell from all four eyes in this room, but all you noticed right in that moment, where his hands holding you as tenderly as never before. His arms were patched up with white bandages, and there was no telling how much he used on you really, but the bloody knife laying on the floor, still dripping with fresh blood was proof enough of what happened.

Just, neither of you wanted to talk about it anymore.

In the rhythm of his rocking, he pressed his lips to your head, kissing on top and the sides, but you couldn’t meet him with yours. Every movement hurt and you were too scared of opening up a wound again when you stretched out, so you just remained scrunched up between his legs, letting him do the small shifts.

Ironically, he asked you, “Do you feel better?” on some point, and you had to admit, yes you did. You were surprised no one had heard the horrific screams and shouts around you, called the cops as you felt yourself be attacked and mangled as if a wolf was ripping you apart. But all the yelling and shockwaves of pain, the endless tears and crying out loud had taken something out of you, just torn it out and banned it into an unspoken void.

It was still early afternoon, probably the reason no one came to your rescue when you pleaded and shouted for help, desperate to have someone be a good citizen in your times of need. But you were utterly left to your own fate, with only Rhys to hear you. You wanted to believe that what he did to you, hurt him just as much, but at the same time, you still remembered the expression on his face, the voidness of emotions that only started to break when you began pleading with him for your life. 

Rhys had always been by your side, and everytime his knife had scrapped your skin, he had suffered with you and a cut on himself. Every tear that left was matched with one of his, and every scream was rewarded with the bittersweetness of a kiss. After what he did to you, you should have been furious and angry and really, really scared. But you didn’t budge from his hold on you, didn’t even try to move or put up a fight. 

“It was for your best, I only did it for you,” he reaffirmed you over and over.

He did it for you, it was for your best and to help you, you thought in unison. 

Supposedly, in Rhys’s mind you were supposed to thank him for what he did, but instead, you just kept quiet. And at least now, he didn’t seem to mind it too much. One of the few movements you could do was yawn, as exhaustion washed over you. However your body decided that after this experience it was a good idea to be sleepy, was out of your knowledge. But still. With how cold the blade of the knife was, Rhys was warm. Where it had cut you sharply, he held you tenderly in his arms. And with you two moving so frantically to hurt and not get hurt, his rocking now was comfortable.

A part of you realized how terrible everything was. How awful it was that the death of your best friend would cause you to become something that your boyfriend thought he could fix by hurting you. How unnecessary violent the marks on your body were, and how much it hurt to be attacked by the person you loved. It was all so wrong.

But after the rain came the sun, and right now, everything seemed okay again. Rhys was breathing normally again, your heartbeats were slowing. He still sniffled sometimes, but so did you, it wasn’t a dealbreaker. Wounds were mended, clothes were changed. Even the sheets where already in the washing machine. Rhys seemed to not like the knife right now, as he just left it where it was, his mind probably as in shock as yours. 

The rocking of your body, slowly became less and less noticeable, and you closed your eyes too as you became overwhelmed by the exhaustion. With Rhys falling asleep too, you should have, and could have made a run for it. Other people, doctors, nurses, they could have taken care of your wounds later too, it wouldn’t have mattered. All you needed to do was get out and get away, because you knew this wasn’t how you should be treated.

However, what you didn’t realize was, that Rhys had long taken the fight from you. Breaking it piece by piece he had made you realize that there was always a possibility that no one else around you would care. Only Rhys could keep you from the loneliness that came with your exclusion. He cared about you most, and he was the one to give you comfort in these hard times, especially now with Alex gone. All he did, he did for you, because he loved you so much.

Being in his arms now was the only comforting thing you had left. Having his hand brush over your arm, and hold you tightly so you would collapse into yourself, everything seemed so warm and secure. Even if he hurt you and undermined you, he still loved you and wanted to be with you more than anything. It wasn’t healthy, but it was your best option.

And at least now, you couldn’t bring it over yourself to think on your own and leave.

Not when he gave you comfort when you needed it the most.


	14. Choke

What you didn’t know as you were comforted into your sleep was that Rhys wasn’t joining you in the world of dreams at all. He was wide awake, but you either didn’t notice or didn’t care as you slowly but surely slumbered away, head falling onto his chest. Only for a moment did he shudder under how cute you looked, curled up, and leaning on him for support. You were so utterly adorable, even if your body was more or less mangled now.

But as far as Rhys was concerned, you seemed to have taken his ‘help’ very well. Of course, there was some crying and screaming, thrashing your body side to side, but otherwise, judging by how you were acting now, everything seemed to be fine. Matters were slowly but surely resolved, and he liked the closeness you two had now as if this little debacle brought you two closer together.

Still, it wasn’t enough for him.

With Alex gone, life could be so perfect again, so wonderful, and Rhys was aware that he should be happy now. But he wasn’t. The last few days, the confusion over and questioning of your feelings, your struggles against his help-- it all showed him that you weren’t yet ready to accept your destiny by his side. It made Rhys sigh deeply. All he ever wished was merely living the perfect life he desired for you two. But at the same time, this was just another hurdle to overcome, right?

Carefully and gently, he laid you down in his bed alone, getting up. You were so powered out, you didn’t hear him leave with just a reusable bag, money, and keys, Rhys extra careful when shutting the door. He estimated you to sleep for the next three hours, or until the hunger kicked in, he’d see. It was enough time to run some errands.

Every relationship had hurdles, right? No one ever just had a smooth, good time. There were always arguments to face and opinions that didn’t match up. Yes, yes, he was aware of that. Never did he harbor a love for anyone like the one he shared with you, but as the wedding vows spoke of, in good and bad, partners were meant to stick together. So even if you didn’t like what he was doing, it was still okay as long as he did it to help you, just like a boyfriend should. He should be supporting you and helping you overcome everything, no matter if it was grief or you not realizing yet what you had with Rhys. 

Cans of food, water, some of your favorite snacks. That was his first errand. Very important, you two wouldn’t be going out for a while and would need the supplies. He estimated this to last for a couple of days at best, but it would buy him time.

Rope, bleach, and gloves were easy to get from a hardware store. No one batted an eye at him as he purchased them with a big smile and friendly conversation. He hoped he wouldn’t need any of those items.

The cashier in the erotic store did bat an eye at him before he grinned nastily, pulling the handcuffs, blindfold, and gag over the counter. Rhys looked at him unfazed while he scanned and wrapped up the items, thanking the man for his help before leaving. But not without a very meaningful, “Have fun~” calling behind him. It wouldn’t be fun, but Rhys would try.

Aside from having trouble finding the stores, there were no inconveniences on his way, and Rhys was back in under two hours. You hadn’t moved, aside from turning over on the mattress. He checked up on your wounds with a short glance, then he proceeded to put away all he needed quietly. Returning to you once he was done, he sat down next to your body, tenderly caressing your cheeks with his hand. You were quite warm, and he hoped it was only because of the crying, rather than a fever you were getting. 

But in the gentlest ways he could, he attached the cuffs to your right wrist first, securing it at the heater above the bed and under the windowsill. Rhys knew he needed to be quick to put your second hand into place and then observe you carefully. You could be waking up any moment now, and he placed the gag near in case you were going to loudly protest the new arrangement. 

It wasn’t nice to see for him either, but it was a necessity for now. At least, until you learned your place.

As he expected, you were quick to stirr, eyes screwed up tightly before you opened them, blinking. Immediately you noticed the restriction, pulling at your arms in a reflexive panic. “Rhys…” was your first reaction, one he very much liked since it was him you were thinking of first. “What is this… What are you…” you stuttered, trying to comprehend, while also get used to feeling pain all over your body again. 

“Shh, it’s alright. Everything’s okay,” he hushed you, easing your tense muscles in your arms by rubbing his hands over them. Rhys, too, had to tell it to himself so he could properly believe it, but in the end, it was all for your best. “I believe we have to work on you and on our relationship first before I can let you roam around freely again. I know everything is a bit too much, but it will be better soon, I promise.”

Your struggles only grew more as you heard his words, legs beginning to flail, and the panic setting in. From one moment to the next, you were in full panic mode, even Rhys not having expected your reaction to be quite so rough. For the first time, you could see a hint of panic in his eyes too as he watched you, unsure what to do. He wanted to apply the gag, but you managed to bite him before he could shove it in. And bite you did, hard enough to make him yelp in pain, the gag falling to the floor as Rhys let go of it in favor of caressing his own skin.

It had only been a reflex, but it showed him just how much you needed him at this moment. How dire the situation had gotten. He needed to do something. Certainly, it wasn’t easy for him to climb you again, and for a moment, fear bolted through your body that the knife would return. But instead, and also a bit clumsily, his hands wrapped around your throat, his strength, together with his weight, he leaned on you, feeling like he was going to snap your nack.

But it helped. Though you were choking at first, eventually, no air could press through anymore, and you unwillingly calmed down, staring blankly at him, as if you were asking what he was doing.  _ Was he going to choke you to death too?  _

When that thought occurred in his mind, he instantly let go, your lung filling with painful air. Rhys backed away in a hurry, unable to stand looking at you. Picking up the gag, it was the last thing he bothered you with before he hurried off into the bathroom, turning his back to the mirror, only hearing your muffled screams behind him. He knew he shouldn’t have done that. God, what was he even thinking?

Of course, Rhys knew what he had been thinking. Alex, too, stopped struggling, panicking and fighting the longer Rhys held the pillow over his face. At that moment, in his own panic, he simply thought he could do the same with you, using his hands. But he wasn’t strong enough yet. Not careful enough. This could have turned out badly, even if he saw it helping you. Watched how you calmed down. 

But Rhys had to do better for you. 

And he would. Promise.


	15. Tears

To say the situation was to cry for was not an understatement.

What wrong had you done in your life? What did you do to deserve this treatment? Your childhood had been hard as any other, but mostly fair. There were things you said that weren’t okay, but you grew out of those thoughts and opinions and bettered yourself. There was nothing that would justify you getting strapped to a bed in your boyfriend’s apartment, and there was no justice in the actions he took against you. 

Or, if you believed him, for you.

Actually, you remembered a few instances where you might have taken the wrong turn before. Still, none of them seemed conclusive enough to be the reasons you got into a fix now. Being suspicious of him didn’t mean he couldn’t have become your boyfriend. Telling him you didn’t love him, didn’t make his manipulation okay. Rhys showering you with gifts and affection didn’t mean you needed to do the same to him. Loving Alex and griefing his loss didn’t mean Rhys had to go full psychopath on you and wound you.

And none of those reasons made it okay for him to take these actions.

Not even by the ticking of the wall clock could you measure how long it must have been, though you were in a half-daze. Tears had been falling from your face ever since he put that gag on you for the first time. It’s been three days since. Finally, he ran out of food to feed you and let you chew on the gag again before leaving. If not for sleep, you would have cried through all these days, but right now, that he was gone, somehow, you could compose yourself.

Your nose was so clogged, you were scared to suffocate with the gag in your mouth, and that might have been one of the few reasons for you to stop throwing a temper tantrum. There was no telling how long Rhys really was gone, but you savored every moment of it. He was overbearing, violent, and unpredictable, and you were so glad to get a break from him, despite still being in a very peculiar situation. 

In the beginning, he still soothed you, tried to hush and calm you down. But you just wouldn’t let him, instead kick and thrash as much as you could, bound to the bed, so he opted to tie your ankles to the bed frame too. At least for day one, this was all you two did, until you were too exhausted to even keep your eyes open, and Rhys cuddled into your side at night like a child clinging to an angry parental figure. Still, he didn’t apologize.

On the second day, you made the mistake of spitting food into his face, very intentional. It felt good to put up some fight, right up to the moment he got furious. He screamed and shouted, called you all sorts of names, and let you know how ungrateful you were until you started to cry again after he slapped you across the face. For the rest of the day, he gagged you, ignored you, and watched TV. There were no cuddles that day. You hoped he felt a bit of remorse that day, but you couldn’t be sure.

Third day, and the cereals he wanted to feed you out of the same bowl he was eating from, you simply refused, and he didn’t force you to eat them. You couldn’t help but cry from frustration about his behavior, but he didn’t watch you break out in tears this time, eating the cereals in the hallway on his own. All of a sudden, you felt all those negative emotions that you always feared you would when he was gone. You were sad, lonely, frustrated. Severely hungry, and if you wanted to drink something, you had to ask him, let alone the terrible thing he called your toilet. So you were also humiliated and terribly aware of his conditioning of you to rely on him.

This was a terrible nightmare, but you knew there was no waking up from it. All you had now was the bit of peace as he was gone, and nothing else. Shaking your limbs, you were still as fixed in place as he had left you in. You feared the wounds on your skin, but they were nothing against the betrayal and self-blame you were feeling. 

You had always known that Rhys was no good, but you had been too weak to resist him coming on to you in your times of need. Even if there was a possibility that you didn’t know better, you were still at fault for letting it go on for as long as it did. Now there was no one who’d notice even if you perished in this small room. No lover, no friends, no Alex. No one would notice until it was much too late.

Rhys… you were so angry at him. How could he! How could he do all of this to you! Make you into what you were now! What right did he have to say he loved you but turned out to be such a maniac! You hated him! You hated his pretty, stupid face and that he seemed to still love you even after immobilizing and degrading you into nothing worth even fundamental human rights! You  _ hated _ him!

Yet, when you heard the front door unlock, all you could feel was the burning of your eyes again. Everything else was buried deep in your empty stomach, growling loudly as he came walking in from the front door, the grocery bag rustling. From it, a delicious smell of cheap food, warmed up at the store, greasy and fatty, precisely what one would crave after going without food for so long and being in emotional stress all the time.

Of course, you didn’t greet him as he called you sweet names and patted your head for a moment, setting down the food. One hand falling to your stomach, he gave it a gentle rub while it growled before using his thumb to wipe away the tears from your eyes - which you averted from him in silent protest. 

“Now, now,” he mumbled. “Will you stop crying and eat something with me? We can watch your favorite show and--”

You couldn’t help it. You really couldn’t! Especially now, when he was nice to you, you felt all those feelings of helplessness and anger overflow. All those days spent with him had been nothing but a farce, and you had walked right into his trap. You hadn’t been clever about it, and he had all chances to do with you what he wanted, so you ended up like this. 

Sobbing, you let out loud - yet held back by the gag - cries, turning your head into the pillow to your right. As far away from him as possible. This was all awful. Every moment of this existence became dreadful to you. And the worst was when he leaned forward to kiss the corner of your eyes, whispering about how everything was going to be okay while you broke down. 

But once you could no longer cry anymore, you were untied from the frame, despite him restricting your movements still with your wrists and ankles tied together by the rope, just in front of you this time. Seated between his legs again, he put on your favorite TV show, supported your exhausted body, and slowly but surely unwrapped the food he bought, using a plastic spoon to bring it to your lips. At least for a few more hours before you fell asleep again, the tears disappeared, leaving nothing but wet marks and regrets behind, as you let yourself be fed, despising how dependant you felt, and yet were greedy for more.

Yet, the cheap convenience store noodles in tomato sauce were the best thing you ever ate in your whole life.


	16. Darkness

When you awoke the next morning, everything was dark. Strangely enough, you knew the curtains weren’t strong enough to  _ not _ let a bit of sunlight through them, and even with the lights off, there was no way of it being so extremely dark. Shifting in your place, your voice broke from the strain before you could complain, but a new sensation reached you, the one of not being tied entirely to the bed. 

In fact, you felt like you could stand up. 

Testing the waters, you slowly nudged one foot off the bed, instant gratification overcoming you as you were able to touch the ground with your bare foot again. Immediately, you began moving your whole hips into this direction until you felt your upper body restrained by your arms, unable to go further than you were. Wiggling your fingers, you were glad to still have feeling in them, but starting from your wrists, you could feel the strong wrap of rope around them, and it didn’t take long until you realized something worse than that. 

Rhys was lying right next to you, holding the rope down. Meaning, if you were to get up now, he’d wake up from feeling the rope slip either from his grip or body. This was not good. You did not want that at all. Yet, after figuring out where the rope led, you placed your hands near there and rolled your body off the mattress. This could have been a dumb move, but you thought it worth it.  _ Somewhere _ around here, Rhys’s knife should still be laying, and if you learned something from the movies, you could either cut yourself free or defend yourself with it.

If only you could have seen something.

It was getting irritating that you weren’t able to, and you tried to nudge your face into your arm, indeed finding a soft resistance when you got to your eyes. A… blindfold? That was new. It was annoying that Rhys would think of something like this, but a flimsy piece of fabric wouldn’t stop you for sure. 

Rubbing your head over and over on your arm, always in similar strokes, you managed to move the fabric inch by inch, always a bit further until one eye was free. Blinking rapidly, you felt your eyes hurt, dry and puffy from all the crying so far until you finally managed to open up and see again.

Staring right back into Rhys’s piercing gaze. 

“Morning, Sunshine,” he greeted you, but his blank expression didn’t change into anything remotely happy to see you. “Did you fall off the bed? Hurt yourself?”

Dread overcame you as you realized he was aware. He had laid in silence, like a stone, preying on you to make the wrong move. Slowly, you denied his question, feeling a tug on your hands, your muscles being pulled up into your shoulders. “What’s the matter then? You can get up on your own, right?”

Biting your lip, you neither wanted to play this game nor submit to him and do as he said. Over and over, Rhys loosened and tensed the rope, at first in a slow rhythm, then more frantically. “Come on,” he ordered. “You got down there, you can get up. Don’t be difficult now, okay?”

The coldness in his voice was what made you shiver, and for a moment, you considered doing as he said just so you could stop yourself from fearing the man in front of you. Do what he said, and you’d be fine, that’s what you wanted to believe. But you had never been fine by his side, and it wouldn’t save you to comply either. 

So instead, you moved away.

“Dove, where are you going?” he asked, finally, slowly getting up from lying on his arm, watching you. “Come back.” 

That was an order, not a question.

Every time you managed to slide back on your ass, he curled the rope around his hand once more, following you. Rhys didn’t even try to make himself look less scary, didn’t use sweet words to lull you in. He was done with being sweet, and you knew it. Admittedly, he had tried sweet, and yet, it never worked on you, so if you wanted to play a pointless game, he’d simply play along until you realized it was going nowhere.

Nowhere, for you, was when you felt his dresser in your back, big and sturdy. There wasn’t anywhere left to go, and Rhys slowly stalked towards you, tightening the rope around his hand with one wrap after another. “You done yet?” he asked as he stood before you, little left on the string, forcing you to lift your hands over your head. “Do you like the floor so much that you want to stay on it?” Rhys asked, and you opted to not humor him and say nothing. Instead, you tilted your head down, being quiet.

“Hey… Babe, talk to me.” 

With his free hand, he gripped around your chin, pulling your head up to force you to look at him. You could see it in his eyes how much he despised you ignoring him, and you thought about your chances now, deciding none of them were worth not spiting him. As it was now, you’d probably relive his fury anyway, no matter if you did well or not. 

“Do you know why I put that blindfold on you?”

_ No, and you didn’t want to know. _

“It was a surprise, but you somewhat ruined it now, you know?”

_ Still couldn’t care less. _

“Had you stayed in bed, you would have gotten it immediately.”

Crouching down, you could only slam your hands forward, still hanging from Rhys’s hand held high. But he caught your weapon of choice with his free hand, leaning forward to kiss the side of your neck. Goosebumps appeared all over you as he landed one, then two, bringing them all the way down to your collarbones. 

“I heard it feels better when you are blindfolded. I was going to show you a really good time.”

“Good thing I got off the damn bed then,” you replied without a moment of hesitation. The  _ last thing _ you wanted now was to get in any way intimated with this freak.

“Oh…” he mumbled, leaning back to face you again. His free hand reached for the blindfold quickly, making you flinch as you almost thought he was going to slap you again, tearing the fabric off. “So you did get off the bed, hm?”

Immediately, you noticed your mistake, having admitted your ‘mistake’ to him without a second thought. “You are so naughty, Babe. And you know what that means…”

Standing up, he gave you another rough pull, and this time, it worked, making you fall over and getting pulled over the floor by him. You didn’t remember Rhys being this strong, but he had no problem, even if you thrashed from side to side. “Naughty sweethearts get punishment, you know? And you’ve been especially nasty the last few days. You don’t even deserve the blindfold.”

A chuckle fell off his lips as he grabbed you under your arms, pulling your upper body on top of the mattress again. “You just ruined your chance on it feeling good, so sorry if you don’t enjoy it as much.” Rhys grinned, one big, ugly one at that, the very same the cashier at the erotic store had given him. However, all you knew was that it made you want to get away again, immediately. But now that he had a good reason to discipline you, he’d have his fun with this knowledge. 

And you’d wish to go back to the time where the blindfold was still on, and darkness was  _ all  _ that you could see.


	17. Jealousy

When Rhys took you out for the first time in months, you felt like a newborn deer, wondering if you could walk even.

The sun was bright, the neighborhood quiet, but filled with serenity. Instinctively, you grabbed his arm and held on tightly to it, letting him lead you around the block, never getting away further than your arm length allowed. It was weird, yet beautiful, yet really strange to be outside again. Almost as if the last couple of months never happened. As if you hadn’t been his unwilling prisoner of love. 

Before this time, you would have protested if Rhys did the kinds of preparations he put you through leading to this day. Never would you have let him chosen your outfit, watching him curiously as he put it together. When he asked you if you had anywhere you wanted to go for your first time out, you couldn’t even remember where things were, but you felt the bubbly anticipation as he told you about all the places you  _ could _ visit with him.

Life actually wasn’t that bad anymore.

Your mind deliberately locked away the memories of the first months. The times of great tumult and pain, you didn’t want to remember them anymore. It was just so much easier to do as Rhys wanted to, and despite you sometimes still getting a lingering feeling of anxiety whenever he proposed something to you, it had gotten more comfortable to ignore it. After all, it meant that you slowly but surely regained your ‘freedom’.

Even if being free meant to be controlled by him, you were allowed to roam the apartment. He even bought you games and consoles to play, without the internet, but at least you weren’t as bored anymore. After a while, he wouldn’t stand watch while you went to the toilet, and you still remembered the first time he didn’t get up as you announced your toilet break, confusion on your face as you asked him if he was coming. Rhys just smiled and told you that you could do it on your own, and at that moment, you felt almost  _ proud _ of yourself.

Admittedly, you had come far. Far on the ‘losing your sanity and pride’ but also far in your training. Though he bought you a collar, neatly tugged under your turtleneck with the leash going under your clothes and right to his hand, you did nothing that would urge him to use it. You were ecstatic, shivering from excitement, and so, so adamant about clinging to him. None of you bothered with what other people could think. You were happy and astonished over the world you weren’t seeing for the first time - even if it felt like it - and Rhys was endlessly pleased with your behavior and how well you were doing. 

Soon, he wouldn’t need the collar anymore at all.

But for now, Rhys wanted to push the boundaries. He wanted to know what you’d do in especially  _ stressful  _ situations. So your day journey began.

Stopping at your favorite clothing store, one of the store clerks remembered you, even after all this time. She kept talking to you, and you grew unsure of what to do, so you looked up at Rhys, asking for his permission to speak. He grinned as he nodded, and you hesitated at first before wondering if your voice could even bring forth the words you wanted to say. But oh, was he proud of you telling the clerk that you lived overseas for a while for your college studies. Both of you were happy as you chatted with the clerk before she left you alone. It was the first time in months you got to chose something you wanted to wear by yourself, pay it with your own money, and hold the item without Rhys even raising a brow. 

Next was your favorite restaurant, and you waited so patiently for the food to arrive, only to wait longer, staring at Rhys eating and wanting him to tell you to eat too. When he held out his fork, you leaned over the table, eating it without hesitation, and he stroke you under your chin with a pleased hum. Eating something that wasn’t convenient store-bought was like a blessing, and you felt strength and desire coming back to you, one you hadn’t had for a long time on the topic of food. Telling him exactly what you were tasting and liked, Rhys watched you in satisfaction while you ate, ordering you a dessert that you could barely cram into your stomach, but luckily you shared with him.

However, all good things had to come to an end, and for you, that was when Rhys nudged you as you walked back home, demanding your attention. Nodding his head to your left, he asked you to look, and when you followed his gaze, you almost dropped your shopping bag, stomach turning, and twisting. 

Oh, your college. 

For the first time that day, you let go of him, your grip simply loosening as he took another step forward. Rhys didn’t usher you on or anything. He just stood there and watched, curious to see your reaction. Clearly, this place struck a nerve that you wouldn’t have thought it could. From the building to the benches, to the green grass all around it, memories came floating back. Memories of you hanging out with your friend, joking around in classes, and living a life that wasn’t centered around Rhys.

The doors to the college building opened, people leaving it while chatting, laughing. You wanted to be them, wanted to do it like them. Who’d know you’d one day come to yearn for a chance to study? In reality, you were feeling envious about those who could do what you couldn’t. There was no way you could go back to this life and take it as easily as they did, even if Rhys wasn’t there to remind you of his hold on you. Jealousy began to collect in your stomach, pure, rotten jealousy that they were so careless while you had to suffer so much for no one’s sake. Lowering your gaze, you were caught in your thoughts, unable to discern your situation from others.

Yet, instinctively, you reached for Rhys’s arm. Why your body acted the way it did, you had no clue. Was it the idea of comfort? The urging on your side to move on? Perhaps, the feeling of not having to think about it anymore, if you gave the helm back to someone else? He patted your hand, that clawed into his arm, tenderly taking a step slowly and pulling you into a movement that you wouldn’t have managed on your own. 

Even with your eyes on the path, your thoughts could not stop circling around your college, the ideas of where you would have been now, and what you would have learned. The people you would have been talking to and the home you’d look forward to go back to. How unfair that all of it was taken from you, that you had to endure all this humiliation and torture when everyone else was so carefree and living the life you should have had.

“Let’s not go out anymore…” you mumbled, and Rhys hummed thoughtfully.

“That’s no good. You need to get fresh air.”

“Okay…” 

He looked at you, your pitiful, jealous form, close to tears again, which you wiped on his sleeve. Rhys had always loved you, but with the way you were now, he loved you even more. You were his, and his alone, and you knew it, always doing what he said. He had broken and built you anew, and where others would not be able to recognize you anymore, you’ve become even more lovely than you always had been. 

It was so nice, knowing  _ he _ had no competition and no one else to be jealous of anymore.


	18. Grin

Rhys had many faces. Figuratively, but also quite literally.

He was the cool guy, always a joke on his lips. The one you’d invite to your party the very same night when you met him in the hallway, and he’d accept, asking if he should bring beer.  _ And then actually showed up. _

Many had been witness to his cleverness. Sometimes, he even brought fake glasses, putting them on jokingly before getting down to help his classmates. However, it was actually easy to follow his instructions. He took whatever time it needed to explain it properly so that even the last person was able to understand it. Rhys would always pat said person’s back, praising them for doing a good job too, never expecting that anyone paid him back.

Under different circumstances, you might have agreed he was a respectable lover too. His exes could confirm that despite their relationship breaking apart, they never went into different directions on bad terms. He was incredibly attentive and open to any kind of affection. No matter what it took, he always tried to please and help, be a good listener, a guy that always remembered anniversaries. 

Really, he was a well-loved, well-respected young man for his age. One that people saw graduating with a high degree, in a field that would give him a high paying job and a lot of backpacks in the future. No one really understood why he’d set out a whole semester out of the blue, but they all blamed the death of a good friend of him, and that was that. No one expected the real reason behind it.

**You** .

Some could have argued that meeting you was not only the end of  _ your _ life but also his. All of Rhys’s interests changed suddenly in favor of you. All his thoughts, interactions, words circled around you, and you were all that he was interested in. It was hard to describe how someone could change so much overnight, but that was just because it never happened before, and Rhys never let anyone see his changes.

Suddenly, if it didn’t have you in it, things weren’t interesting anymore. He’d still go on fun events with his friends, but only when you tagged along, and he’d help your friends out much more than his, hoping you’d join in. This was his new thing, the new Rhys. A Rhys that could not bear to go without his daily dose of you, and he was never satisfied anymore without it.

That face of his when he lost all interest after being told you wouldn’t join the event… it was scary.

So blank, so void of emotions. As if his life suddenly didn’t matter anymore. His voice could be sincere or joking, but it didn’t reach his facial play. There was simply… nothing. And it scared anyone who looked at him.

But the literal worst where the faces only you knew.

The face of pleasure, which he showed you whenever Rhys fell into a circle of thoughts about how much he loved you, never missed making you uncomfortable. It was just  _ too  _ sincere. He was  _ too  _ excited, brimming with happiness. More often than not, you had to swallow the bitter reality to see this specific face, let him touch and grope you in ways you did not want it. Other times, you just knew he was fantasizing about you after watching you do something very mundane like scratch your face in embarrassment or play with his fingers. It had been cute to see him so lovestruck at first, but by now, you realized that there was nothing sweet nor normal about it.

Oftentimes, when you ‘misbehaved’ you also became a victim of his emotionless stare. Still, the one he gave you was even worse than the one other people witnessed on him. It frequently came with the endless dread of knowing he could snap any second, but he never let you know when. There could be lashing out, screaming at you, violent outbursts, but you never knew if they would happen or when, and that made you much more anxious than the prospect of his tantrums. Rhys’s eyes were bristled with disappointment, anger, spite, but everything else was just a blank, straight face that made your neck hair rise, and you folded into yourself even before something happened, scared.

However, if there had been anyone to ask you which one was the worst of them all, the absolute most terrifying one you had to describe, it would have been his grin.

Simple, easy, just his grinning face.

There were so many things that were unsettling you about it. Sometimes, it was just a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. For example, if he was holding polite small talk, but at the same time, press his hand into the small of your back, letting you know that it was out of question that you could do anything stupid. It felt like he had control over you despite doing almost nothing. Nothing really could have stopped you from spilling the beans, screaming, crying, or running, but when you looked at his face for just a matter of a few seconds, your blood froze, the grin he gave you a silent yet effective warning. 

Or the times when you actually did something wrong, and he let you know just how worthless you were. Usually, he’d be all “I love you” and “You are the most important person in my life” but when you did something that Rhys did not approve of, misbehaved in any way, or tried to annoy him deliberately, this grin would put you back in place, letting you know about how displeased he was and that there wouldn’t be dinner for you that evening. 

You kind of wanted to provoke him, but it still makes you uneasy.

But the worst one - and you’d never forget it, it was ingrained in your brain forever - was the one grin he gave you after your punishment. Laying in his arm, you were ready to settle this ‘argument’ aside for the day when you made the mistake of looking up at him. The cold shudder in your back was less of a reaction Rhys might have expected, but what you saw in his face shocked you, and you quickly looked away, wanting to move out of his arms, but he only held you tighter. His grin spoke of achievement, of winning. Of his superiority over you. Ever since you met this grin, you were adamant about never wanting to see it again, as it was abominable and cruel to see how confirmed he was in his thinking and doing. Looking away, you’d try to hide, not wanting to think of the what next and how to handle this situation. 

And at that moment, both of you knew you lost, and Rhys won, even if this thought made you nauseous.


	19. Food

Who knew that there could be a time where food wasn’t appealing to you anymore.

It wasn’t like you had a serious condition. You neither ate too much nor too little, but certainly, you mostly ate for Rhys rather than yourself. Rhys cooking skills were underwhelming, so most of the time, he fetched you two take-out, convenience store food, or delivery of what you felt like having that day. You had a variety of tastes, every day something different, and he wasn’t skimpy on the money or way he had to take to fetch you your latest craving. 

There was nothing to not like about food, aside from the few things you didn’t like eating. But really, eating something helped soothe your emotional distress, and it also filled you and made your body feel a bit happier than you actually were. It warmed you up on cold days, and it was a nice reward after a long, stressful one. 

Still, the longer it went on, the less you liked eating. You absolutely hated it when Rhys was still feeding you, thinking it was so adorable to stuff your mouth to the brink with a big spoonful of carbs and soups. More than once, your tongue felt like burning off in slow, agonizing pain, and though you liked spitting into his face, if the food left you again, it was more likely it was from you having to cough after having to consume it roughly.

But even afterwards, you began following Rhys’s intentions, waiting for him to allow you to eat, waiting for him to give you a spoon to eat yourself. You’d always glance in his direction rather than just go for it. After a while, it became another simple habit, and you’d even do it on your trip outside of the apartment, just like your boyfriend always intended.

It was just more comfortable this way.

But ever since he took you out, you weren’t able to connect food to good emotions anymore. Perhaps it was the frustration and how much the topic of your stolen life bothered you, but now you didn’t look back fondly at the day where you had eaten out for the first time in months again. Now it was just… uninteresting.

At first, Rhys didn’t force you to eat. He’d offer you some, prepare it lovingly, fetch your favorites, but if you didn’t eat, then he’d put it in the fridge, offering it up again a bit later. But with the time, he too noticed how you barely took a bite before complaining you were full and how little you actually ate. It was the perfect amount to not fall under his radar, but with someone who watched you as intently as Rhys did, studied all your behavior, it was soon revealed that you, in fact, did not eat enough.

Before you could get up the next time, saying you were done, he grabbed you by the wrist, making you look up surprised before you slowly settled down next to you. Fetching a spoonful of rice, he smiled at you, holding it up to your face. “One more. Because it’s  **so** delicious.” 

You really didn’t want to, but there was no arguing. One haps and done. You were ready to leave again when the grip on your wrist tightened. Looking back at him, you saw another spoon waving in front of you. “Another one, for me, right, Love?”

After four spoons, you felt fed up. Not on food, but on his insistence on you eating. You couldn’t care less if it was for him or if it was good; you simply did not want to eat it. For a long time, you had suppressed your more stubborn side in favor of regaining some liberties. But you were drawing a line when he held up the fifth spoon, lips closing tightly while you shook your head.

“I don’t want to,” you told him clearly.

“But you have to, it’s dinner!” 

Turning your head away, you were nothing more than a pouting child in his opinion, but by his grip on your wrist alone, he noticed you had started losing weight already. Rhys didn’t like this predicament of you refusing to eat. Had it been one meal, alright, you could have  _ some  _ choice every now and then. But that’s as much as he’d give you.

“Eat,” he urged you on, and you shook your head heartily, trying to make it clear to you.

“I said,  **eat** !” 

Spoon falling to the table, the curry splashing everywhere, he used both hands to get you closer again, folding down your resistance to a minimum by using his own body to hold yours. “I don’t want to! I don’t care!” 

Your struggles weren’t in vain, testing his patience and how well he could hold you, but eventually, he managed to place his hand on your nose even though you clawed your fingers in his bare skin and tried to bite what you could. With his free hand, he dug into the food, proceeding to shove it into your pitiful yapping mouth and covering it quickly so you couldn’t just spit it out. 

For a whole lot of time, you gave him the nastiest stare you could, smelling nothing but curry. It was a mess, the table was a mess, you were a mess. But the biggest mess undoubtedly was that maniac you once trusted. Slowly but surely, you had to give in and swallow the damn food, even though your throat was closing in on you in disgust.

It made you realize that it didn’t matter in the end. It didn’t matter if you were behaving better or not, as long as you didn’t fit the very small and compact image he had of you, Rhys would forever try to form you. You felt sick to the stomach, close to tears, and hopeless, but at least now, you found another reason for yourself to fight.

Because if you wouldn’t, Rhys would simply continue torture you into his perfect little darling. If you were honest, before that happened, it may be better to at least have tried to escape and resist him. Otherwise, you could be as good as dead too - one way or another.

However, Rhys just loved that about you too. You never entirely lost your fight, after all.


	20. Tight

Thus began your second bloom of defiance.

It was a long and painful process, one that Rhys neither enjoyed nor was absolutely thrilled about. You were cute, always stubborn, and fighting as much as you could. He had to give it to you for being a sulky little mess, but you were still  _ his  _ sulky little mess. 

You quickly caught on how much he disliked having to hurt you, but it soon became the only thing that would not make you lash out, spit in his face, or try your best to steal his keys and run. At least for the rest of the day after a punishment, you’d be quiet and broken, too exhausted to resist his cuddles. Almost back to normal. Almost back to your perfect self. One that he could touch and kiss and lay his head on top without risking getting his eyes scratched out. 

Otherwise, you were simply feral.

And so, you began to fight him again, while he worked on making you submit to him. You two were like fire and gasoline, respectively. He made you burn much more than needed and brought out the worst in you. Still, you swore you’d go back to your normal life one day. Even if it took you years to escape and then work over the trauma it would leave on you to have been objected to Rhys’s love, you’d get out and start over.

To finish your studies, make new friends, and see new things in this world - those were your dreams. You didn’t want to sit still and be pretty to a psycho who misused his love in the worst way possible. You wanted to be free again and live up to your own expectancies, not Rhys’s. You missed your friends and family, and just being alone for a while without knowing someone who makes you uncomfortable is about to come back any minute now and bother you.

Those were all human desires that you couldn’t help yourself dreaming of. And to you, it was worth fighting for them, no matter how minor they might seem to anyone else. So even if he screamed at you, even if he forced you to eat, even if he’d slap you across the face or pull a knife out of nowhere, you wouldn’t just sit around and behave as long as you knew it bothered him.

Despite, you didn’t feel like Rhys could actually kill you. 

More than once, had you seen hesitation in his eyes. Yes, he  _ wanted  _ to hurt you, he did his best to make you quiet and well-behaved again. But at the same time, he no longer had the strength to choke you after that one time. He always backed away, hands shivering the moment he realized what he was about to do. His knife could hurt you, but he never used it anymore on you. It was just a scare tactic. Oftentimes it helped, Rhys using your moment of looking stunned at the silver or the cut it made accidentally to strap you back in place.

Really, you felt safe knowing this. Other dangers were coming from him, but actually dying bis his hand seemed unrealistic. His actions could exhaust you, make you bleed out, starve or choke, but it wouldn’t be his active doing, just a cause of his indirect behavior. So the bit of cockiness you showed to him wasn’t actually coming from nowhere.

“Fine, we can play it like this too,” Rhys muttered, very busy with putting a few extra knots into the new rope he had to buy after you managed to actually destroy the old one. It was tight, uncomfortable, and hurt your skin, but you wouldn’t let the grin on your lips be washed off your face, knowing that this time you had won, and he had to revert to his basic options of keeping you at bay.

“Stop looking like that,” he hissed, not liking your attitude despite the red flashing on his face. You were still adorable, and looking at you being happy - even if it was about yourself - made his heart flutter violently despite you being so obnoxious. “If you don’t wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, I’ll make the ropes even tighter.”

“Do it,” you taunted him, and Rhys let out an exasperated groan, eyebrows furrowing over your challenge.

It was a new form of joy to see him fussy and annoyed about you. The bickering back and forth was, despite the unevenly distributed positions of power, almost fun to you. You two could almost pass off as a couple again, captured in a hate-love that didn’t exactly make you better people, but at least gave back some dynamic between you.

Still grumbling, Rhys did as you challenged him too, your arm pulling even higher, fingers stuck against the headboard. You pulled in the air sharply before laughing out loud, unsettling him even more. Perhaps you had lost some pieces of your mind, but bullying him into doing as you said was your new entertainment. 

Rhys proceeded to make everything he could tighter for you, hoped it would urge you to say it hurt and beg him to loosen it up again, but you did none of them. Instead, you simply smiled every time he looked up at you, wiggling your eyebrows as if you were saying, “Is that all?”

Frustration was growing in him, and you could see it in every tension of his body and expression on his face. Rhys no longer had the upper hand, even though you didn’t have it either. But knowing he wouldn’t kill you made you stronger mentally. You began noticing his flaws and the mistakes he made.

Now, with his mind worried about you in many more ways, he began to be sloppy with his measurements against you, careless with what he let lay around, and forgetful about what he did or didn’t. More than once had you managed to swipe his keys from him, and if escaping didn’t work, you had instead used them as a weapon against him. Until now, he had been able to react in time, but how much longer would he be able to when his mind was fogged by rage as you taunted him?

The days were passing much quicker again, you noticed, lying in your bed, strapped from all four limbs. Even if the rope was so tight, you could feel the open wounds on your ankles and wrists, you weren’t displeased with your achievement. Soon, a moment would come where Rhys would make a mistake so severe he couldn’t keep you where you were. But right now, you simply needed to be as patient as the rope was tight.

Waiting for your chance.


	21. Escape

Was there even one thought more important to you than escaping?

Could there have been anything that would have made you hesitate, made you think twice before you did what you did? Overthink the plan you hatched for weeks before you attempted to pick the lock for the first time? No. No, there was nothing that could have prevented you from this.

Every day you despised Rhys a little bit more. Every day you tried to make his life a living hell, just like he did it to you. This was justice, nothing more, nothing less. You would do whatever it took to fulfill your plans, no matter how hard they still seemed. Working towards them was your daily goal, even if you got frustrated a lot when you felt like you were having a set back on them whenever Rhys put you back into a miserable state.

For days you asked Rhys to watch crime movies, trying to figure out how to do what needed to be done. You even had become a bit more agreeable with him again, so he’d trust you enough to only bind your wrist and legs, but without restricting you to any furniture. It had been hard, you had wanted to make him suffer as much as you did more than once, but at the same time, you just had to wait for his regular grocery run.

Seeing him off with a smile felt almost wrong for Rhys, but he took any gentle gesture you’d give him happily and with relief. He, too, had become exhausted by your constant fights and the rough measurements he had to take. Just last week, he wouldn’t have been able to leave you at home unbound. Going out on a shopping trip without continually having to contemplate your moods was almost a luxury to him now. And so he went out of his way to fetch you your favorite dessert, partly to have some more time to breathe out and also to make you happy and comport with you.

There were no better escaping conditions for you than now.

It was a struggle, but you managed to pull your arms forward from behind you, threading your legs through them so you could hold your hands before you. Since Rhys needed them for his morning wash, there were always some bobby pins around; you just had to find one. Feeling your way around the cabinet in the bathroom, you tried to make them out, eventually finding the little box where he kept them.

Sure, it would have been easier if you could have used stationary, but Rhys threw most of it out when he allowed you to walk around again, deeming it unnecessary and dangerous. Aside from the one multi-tool he owned and carried on himself all the time, he had done so with most of the things in his apartment, especially cutlery and scissors. So, with the limited movements of your hand and your teeth, you had to take out the bobby pins, bending them into the shape of the tools you had seen on TV.

Everything else, you already put back in its place. You couldn’t be sure that it worked, or you’d be able to open the door on time and flee, and if not, you’d be save from Rhys not knowing what you did. It cost time, but that much you allowed yourself. Kneeling down in front of the door, you did your first try, the rope grinding against your skin painfully as you used your hands, but you kept going even with the pain. Testing the water, you tried to apply pressure on the lock, but all you could feel was resistance. Nothing seemed to happen, and you could already feel the disappointment and frustration that came with it not being as easy as the movies made it out to be.

But it was your only chance.

With a deep breath, you continued until - finally - you heard a click. You weren’t sure what you did, but this seemed to like the right thing. However, it worked, it worked, and you would not complain, only rinse and repeat. Every click gave back some courage on your shoulders, despite it also making your hands shiver more and more. You were so close, so incredibly close to freedom. How many more clicks until you’d be free?

You didn’t count, but the final click unlocked the door Rhys had always kept you behind. Why hadn’t you done this sooner? It was almost too easy, yet you had never attempted it before. Stumbling to your feet, you opened the door fully, unbothered by the fact you wouldn’t be putting on shoes. Luckily, it wasn’t rainy outside, and though the sweatpants, tank top, and socks you were wearing were little support for the autumn weather, you didn’t look back to waste time on being more comfortable.

Without hesitation, you walked outside the door, leaving it open as you toddled to the stairs that would lead you to the ground level. One after another, you walked down, your head bouncing back and forth between the street and the stairs under you. You didn’t want to fall, but you also didn’t want to get trapped on the stairs if Rhys came back. Eventually, though, you gave up, sitting down to slide down the steps.

Once down, you couldn’t help your heart bursting with a mix of pride and happiness, but also the adrenaline, paranoia always sitting in the back of your mind. You couldn’t run, but you had to get away. Sadly, Rhys wouldn’t stay away forever. Yet, you really had made it! You actually managed to get out of your prison all on your own! Rhys had worked hard to make you feel like you couldn’t take care of yourself, but if he was here now, you’d have been able to tell him just how easy it was after all.

Moving forward, towards the street in front of the building, you could already think of all the faces you’d be able to see again, all the things you soon would be able to do! There was no sight of anyone when you looked around the corners, and you chose the path straight ahead, leading into a public area with a lot of trees and thickets, a playground nearby. Keeping yourself hidden was a mere thought of better being safe than sorry, especially when Rhys eventually noticed you being gone.

You also hoped to find people there. Someone who’d help and even someone or something to cut you free of your restrains. So you did your best to waddle and jump forward when out of the corner of your eyes, you saw someone turn the corner behind the apartment building. You looked up at the person, hopeful that they would help you.

When, in reality, it was a very familiar face you made out.

Blood draining from your whole body, you hastily made your way behind a tree, sinking to your knees and hiding your body from sight, crawling into a bush as best and quiet as you could. You were lucky enough that his attention was on his phone, but you had to admit that you didn’t think you’d hardly have time to get further away. Cowering in the bush, you listened to the asphalt footsteps, which slowly approached the building.

You probably wouldn’t have needed to, but you held your breath as he passed by, and you listened to his footsteps. In less than a few seconds, he’d notice the open door and that you were gone, but you couldn’t move an inch. Remaining quiet was better than doing anything rash and draw his attention.

Just as you predicted, you suddenly heard him come to a halt on the stairs before his steps became faster. He called out your name as he disappeared in the doorway, but Rhys was quick to turn around, rushing down the metal steps, calling for you again. He sounded angry, but even more, he sounded desperate. He approached the park area, and you simply clasped your hand over your mouth, counting the seconds while his feet crunched the leaves and stone beneath them. From a hole in the thicket, you could make out his jeans, see him stand nearby.

Your name, again. It made you flinch, but you took all the composure you had to not be noticed, merely shutting your eyes close.

And then, you heard him running, distancing yourself from your position.

He hadn’t noticed you.

You felt the tears burning in your eyes, overwhelmed with knowing that despite not being safe, he didn’t find you and didn’t know where to look. Relief made your shoulders shake as you muffled your happy sobs, feeling some of the tension fall of you. For a moment, you really thought he’d see you. Who knows what superpowers Rhys possessed when it came to you, but you were so scared that he’d notice you and bring you back.

The question now was where you were going to go to be safe and rest up. The park wasn’t a good choice, now that he was roaming it. Your home wouldn’t be safe either as you didn’t have keys to get in, and it would be the first place he was going to look at. The police. Straight to the police, that would have been a good idea. But where was the next station? Whatever you did, you knew you couldn’t stay. Staying would give Rhys a chance to find you, or the day would pass and night would make everything even more complicated. And so you crouched onwards, slowly, always double-checking your surroundings.

Fueled by the confidence that you could do this, and soon, go back to the life you wanted.


	22. Obsession

This was bad. This was really, really bad.

When someone said something was ‘bad’, usually they did so in connection to medical conditions, their job, the feeling you got when watching a horror movie and it was too quiet. Children running with scissors were bad. Drunk driving was bad. A teacher merely monologuing in front of a class was bad.

But you were gone, and that was the worst of all to Rhys.

He could barely believe his eyes as he saw the open door.  _ How, when, why  _ did you do that? Everything was getting better between you two. How could you pick the door lock, throw away Rhys’s trust and run away? What had he ever done to you that would justify such misbehaving?! 

You were nothing without him. He did everything for you! He cared for you, fed you, washed you, and provided everything you needed, and yet you’d go behind his back like this? Disobey the one thing he expected of you - to stay at home and wait for his return? Had all the time and love he put into your relationship meant nothing to you? Had Rhys been so delusional to think anything changed after that day, you told him you didn’t love him?

Rhys even  _ killed _ for you.

His whole body trembled in anger, frustration, desperation. Rhys had to find you. You wouldn’t be able to survive this cruel world without him. Someone would come and hold you in his arms, who wasn’t Rhys. They’d touch something that  _ belonged  _ to Rhys. Something Rhys had  _ earned  _ with his hard work, his sweat, his tears, and the painful memories that connected you two. There was a bond between you two that no one else could ever have with you! Not, if Rhys could prevent it.

Yes, it was your fault that you escaped. It was your fault that you even thought about getting away from him after all he did for you. Still, right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was catching you and bringing you home, preferably without causing too much of a ruckus. However, it didn’t help that he was running around like a headless chicken, calling out your name panicky, to the point where people stared, offering their help. Rhys smiled, waving off their help to find ‘his pet’ that he was looking for, telling them it was, once more, his responsibility since he wasn’t careful enough.

And for that, he could have punched himself.

How idiotic to believe you’d get better again after you went full-on feral on him for the last few weeks. It was such naive thinking that you turn back to how you were simply over time, submissive and sweet, his angel. Rhys should have known that he needed to do much more than just that if he wanted to turn you back.

Perhaps he really should have hurt you. Give you a taste of Alex’s suffering or torture someone you love so you’d understand your place. It was a bad state of mind that he thought he could do it without these drastic measurements. He really believed that you’d come back to love him, realize your behavior was meaningless, and that all you needed was his love. 

If only he hadn’t been so careless lately, his head always in thoughts about what to do and how to handle you, then he might have noticed the strange ups and downs in your behavior. Noticed that you were planning something. But that all didn’t matter anymore, because now that it happened, all that mattered was to get you back before something horrible happened.

Rhys would have time enough to revel in self-pity later. When you were back in his arms, and he’d know everything was okay.

Could you have come far, roped up as you were, he wondered. Perhaps you didn’t go into this park at all, and he was going in the entirely wrong direction. At the same time, this seemed the most logical to him. There were people around which you probably wanted to contact, a lot of hiding places where you could cower until Rhys would search elsewhere. Trees and thicket--

His head snapped around, eyes wide open. 

Trees and thickets. He didn’t check there when he passed the entrance. The place was surrounded by a good thickness of vegetation, absolutely perfect for hiding in. Rhys swore that even if he had to bring a sickle himself, he’d search through every bush if it meant finding you. He didn’t even care if he hurt you in the process - that was a soft punishment for the stress you caused, after all. If you were to lose a leg or two, that still would be fair in his eyes. But he would find you.

Without another second of hesitation, did he step into the dense green, his eyes glued to the floor, trying to spot an unusual color. He tried to remember what kind of clothes he left you in, a blank tank, grey sweatpants. Rhys swore you’d only wear colors like orange or yellow from now on, so he could make you out quickly if this ever were to happen again.

When he saw something moving out of the corner of his eyes, he instinctively snapped his hand after it, only for his fingers to dig into dirt, a bird flying out of the bush. He could feel the branches scratching open his arm as he took a deep breath, holding it so he could listen closely. Intuition, a feeling, whatever you wanted to call it, Rhys felt that you weren’t as far as he feared you to be. 

He squatted down in the thicket, listening, letting his eyes roam the green attentively. The trees laid heavy shadows over the place, but the day was still bright enough to see something. He could have been wrong, it could have all been just his imagination, but Rhys intended to listen to his belly feeling. 

After all, he loved you.

You two were meant for each other, so he would always find you, no matter where you went. Rhys would always know where you are. There was no one more important, more embedded in his life than you were, he, frankly, was obsessed with you, and he would give everything if it meant to be with you. 

“There you are,” he chuckled, spotting a familiar white sock in the distance, slowly dragging over the ground.

Did you hear him, he wondered, your movements suddenly becoming hasty. You were so close to the border of the park, a few more feet and you’d be out of the forest. All the harder were your struggles as you suddenly felt hands around your waist, turning you over. Before you could punch him, he pinned you down, almost drooling as he felt the overwhelming urge to kiss you. It tasted like dirt and grass, but Rhys didn’t mind, merely crashing his lips on yours, stifling the screams you tried to do, with his own breath. 

“I  _ missed _ you,” he breathed out slowly while you were busy regaining your breath. Opening your mouth again to scream, you saw the stone in his free hand just a second too late, the feeling of your skull cracking all you were able to comprehend before the world turned off as if someone flipped the switch on the TV. Still, dark, no thought dancing through your mind anymore.

Rhys pulled you up and over his shoulder, feeling your body, checking if there was anything else wrong than your bleeding head. Your body was heavy, but he’d always be strong enough to carry you, no matter what the scale said. You were the sole reason he’d even think about working out more, to better provide you. Dropping the bloody stone carelessly into the leaves, Rhys was sure that no one important would find it, much less investigate what happened in these bushes. 

But you, you’d be going home with him now. Later, when you woke up, he’d feed you your favorite dessert, and then you two would look at homes that were on the market, picking the one you liked best. Once you were resting again, Rhys would look up how to break and treat a broken foot, just to be safe, and then he’d start making calls. He couldn’t wait for you two to move, which seemed to be direly necessary since his apartment just wasn’t safe from you anymore. 

He’d never lose you again. That much, he promised you quietly as he brought you back home, laying you down in bed. Rhys loved you, cared for you. This would be a one-time thing. 

Because he just didn’t know what he’d do if it ever happened again.


	23. Family

“We are doing good, thanks for asking! Mhm… yeah… Been a while, that’s true! Really?” 

Rhys’s voice on the phone was the worst kind of nuisance, especially since you knew who he was talking to. Your head was still killing you, even two days after your escape. However, you were merely surprised that you were still alive. That Rhys _actually_ managed to not destroy your brain when he used that stone on you.

You couldn’t say the same about your feet, though.

Arms crossed in front of you and stretched to either side, rope going to the side of the bed, you lacked the strength to lift yourself up to see them. But really, the last thing you would have wanted to acknowledge was how fractured and swollen they were. It hurt still, and it was the sort of pain that actually managed to snap you back from your blackout after the attack. Rhys had been cautious about muffling you with a cloth tied over your mouth before he went to work, knowing fully well what kind of mess your screams would create.

It all was but a faint memory now, but the stinging pain kept reminding you of how badly you were doing now. The disgusting smell of smoke made you cough into your gag while Rhys blew it in your direction, standing at the foot of the bed, phone to his ear, observing you carefully with his condescending gaze. He hadn’t forgiven you for your attempt at running away yet, and you were afraid that it changed something in him. Perhaps, you were even sure that it changed him.

Bringing his free hand with the burning cigarette down to your left foot, for a moment, you worried he’d burn you, but his touch - as gentle as it was - was painful enough. Your back arched as you pinched your eyelids closed, muffled sobs of pain coming over you, and Rhys immediately let off and went to put out his cigarette, the ashtray slowly but surely brimming with stubs. Even after being with him for so long, you couldn’t get used to the smell of his brand of cigarettes. Now that his sympathy with you was at a new low, he didn’t care anymore, smoking one after the other.

Of course, this also just showed how stressed he was. Rhys did a full 180 turn from being a casual and party smoker to becoming a severe chain-addict. Perhaps it was your escape lingering in the back of his mind, Rhys being the one throwing reproaches at himself. Or maybe, it was the fact that he broke your ankles with his own two hands. He didn’t look his usual, good-looking self either, with deep bags under his eyes and bitten down fingernails. 

But you having sympathy for him now didn’t help either of you in this situation.

“Yeah, we’ll come to visit... Mhm, yeah, sorry, we should have called more often… Yes, I know, I feel the same. Thank you for always supporting us, even now. We will check out your friend’s home, it has an indoor shop you said? That would be lovely.”

 _Disgusting_ , you thought. The way he spoke to your mom, you could only imagine what she said to him. Your parents loved him. They loved him ever since you brought him home after Alex’s accident, where he told them he’d take care of you. And they still love him even after all this time, despite it only ever being him to talking to them on the phone. You hadn’t been home in almost a year, and yet they weren’t worried about their child at all. A great family is what you had, cheerful and optimistic, while you were suffering alone.

“Yes, we are all family. One day we’ll make it official, I promise!”

Despite it hurting like shit, you followed him with your eyes, seeing the hints of a big smile on his face before he quickly plucked another cigarette between his lips, giving you a side glance. On his cheeks, a soft tint of red was visible. Naturally, since he was talking about the future, he’d have with you. Rhys disgusted you, but you were just happy to have a few moments without him sitting at your bedside, just watching over you and your condition. He did what he could for your injuries. Still, the man wasn’t a medical genius, sadly, oftentimes bothering you more with what he wanted to help you with then actually do you something good for your health. 

“Sure, talk to you later!... Yes, we’ll call... Definitely… Next time it’s both of us, yeah…” he laughed out loud, sounding as fake as anyone would if they made promises they couldn’t keep. You missed your mom. Missed her voice and even her arguing about every little thing. You’d take her scolding you for walking into the home with dirty shoes every day if it meant to be freed of Rhys. Had you ever been a good child to your parents, you wondered? Did they love you enough, and did you return their love? Things like these were your thoughts now.

The call ended, as did Rhys’s laughing. Phone laid down on the table, he took a long drag at the cigarette, his back turned to you. Smoke rose up to the ceiling from behind his head before he finished that cancer stick, too, putting it out before shifting his attention back to you. Not like it ever left you, but now you were his focus again.

“Your mom wants to help us find a house. She has a friend up by the sea who is selling theirs, she’ll hook us up with it if they don’t find anyone else.”

Smiling, he sat down at your side again, gently as to not disturb all your wounds. “Would you like that? The sea?” Bringing his hand to your face, all you could smell was the pungent smell of burned nicotine and tar, forcing you to unsuccessfully gag. You wanted to turn your head away, but the moment you did, you were overcome by dizziness again, your body being way too awake for all the pain it was trying to heal.

“I know you’ll like it. It has a little shop beneath it, we could sell souvenirs, or maybe flowers. Do you want a flower shop? You can have whatever you want, Babe. I’ll make all of it happen for you.”

Despite your discomfort, Rhys tenderly caressed your cheek, his thumb drawing over your skin lightly. “No one will know us, we’ll be by ourselves. Starting over, become happy. Do you want to get a pet? What do you prefer: Cat or dog? I’ll get you whatever you like.”

His future plans were nothing you wanted to be part of, but he told them to you anyway. You were a convenient listener as if you were not a hostage held by two broken ankles and tied up ropes. “Your mom said I am part of the family now, so she’ll do whatever she can to help us. She’ll give us money and sign the contracts as an attester. She wants us to be happy and well-settled in life, isn’t that nice?”

Shuddering, you groaned under the pain you felt from moving even just a little. Rhys leaned down to kiss your forehead, bringing your head back into a straight position, which you were almost thankful for. “You got to be strong until then,” he mumbled in between the tiny smooches. “I know you have a hard time behaving, but I wouldn’t want to disappoint my mother-in-law, you know? She wants us to be a _happy_ couple, and that’s what we’ll be, right?”

Oh, you were so tempted to spit in his face, if not for the fabric keeping you from it. His ‘happy couple’ was something he could stick up his ass for all you cared.

“Right?” he urged you on, one of his hands suddenly driving down your leg. Close before your bruising started, you realized what he was doing, flinching up and down to get back his attention and to make him stop. Last thing you wanted was him to play around with your wounds now, no matter how severe. Once his eyes looked back to you, you nodded - hesitantly, but you kept eye contact. 

Everything hurt. Your neck, your eyes, the wound on top of your head, but you didn’t want another sleepless night because your feet would not stop pumping blood through them after a ‘massage’ from Rhys. 

“I thought so,” he mused, grinning slyly. “We’ll be a really happy family once we are out of here.” 

Standing up, he looked out of the window with an expressionless face. He seemed deep in thought until he sighed, looking back to you. “Everything will be okay from now on,” he assured you. However, you were sure that you two were beyond ‘okay’ forever.


	24. Wish

_ A dream is a wish your heart makes _

The soft voice on the TV didn’t manage to wake you up completely. Only the gross humming of Rhys, who was ‘preparing’ dinner at the small kitchen close by the bed, forced you to groggily open your eyes, the ceiling above you as bland and unimpressive as always. 

When had been the last time you actually dreamed? Every time you woke up, something was happening, so you kept forgetting about your nightly adventures. Maybe your body didn’t even want to remember, understandably, considering what kind of underlying impressions your dreams must have shown you. If you had to guess, your last - real - dream had been to escape from here. Your new one was that the pain in your body would eventually stop.

Rhys had been gone all day long, leaving you behind in your pitiful restrictions, the painkillers failing somewhere around midday and making it almost unbearable to be alone. He had actually convinced your parents to take him to that one house he was talking to you about the other day, telling them you were on a weekend trip with friends when they asked to go and have a look spontaneously. Judging by his humming, he was in a good mood now.

“It was charming,” he chuckled, side-glancing at you as he noticed you were stirring awake. “Sure could stand a new coat of paint on the outside, but it was clean, not too big, just right for us. There are two rooms upstairs, for living space and sleeping. A kitchen, a bathroom with a bathtub, and plug-ins for washing machine and dryer. It even has a small storage room for the soup cans.”

Laughing, he tapped the cans he kept buying and storing by piling them from the floor next to the stove, their metallic sound pinging through the room. “The store below isn’t big, but it has everything we could need, including a back-office and secure windows.”

Filling his kettle with water, he put it on, the familiar, stinging sound of boiling water soon filling the room. Grabbing his phone, Rhys walked over to you, holding it up in front of you. The screen was so bright, you had to blink a few times to get accustomed to it. “It has a garden, but the really amazing thing is… Look at it, Baby.”

When your eyes finally adjusted, you saw the deep blue ocean water behind three familiar faces. Someone must have made a picture of Rhys and your parents while they were there, smiling and happy. “The ocean is just a three minutes walk until you get to the stairs that will get you down to the beach. Isn’t that amazing? Maybe I will pick up surfing if we move there. Do you think I’d look cool?”

Giggling like a little boy, Rhys hummed happily before he turned away again, tending to the instant noodles he had prepared. The kettle switch flipping over as it reached its height, and you heard him pour out the water, the spoon clacking as he stirred the soup. “I think it will be perfect. Your parents think it will be lovely for us too, they hope we’ll be able to buy it, but with the good word they put in, I don’t think that’s unlikely.”

Rhys sighed. “It’s a wish come true.”

Bringing over the big bowl to the side of your bed, he snagged some noodles with a spoon, blowing to cool them down. “I wish you could have gone with us, but I know you are tired. Maybe when you are feeling better, we can go have a look together on our own.” Side-eying you, Rhys smiled. “That is, if you promise to be good for course.”

There it was again, his little reward games. As if saying ‘if you are good’ would actually make you comply with him, give you the epiphany to ‘behave’ like he wanted. It was the same with the noodles he ate in front of you, fully knowing that your stomach was growling. For as long as he could, he’d keep you unsatisfied just so you’d rely on him again for everything, out of your own free will. 

But whatever intentions there were between you two, they’d never be able to be fixed into the future he wished for.

Even if your life was bound to him for the rest of its pitiful timespan, you’d never willingly become what he wanted. Maybe in a few years, you’d stop fighting him. Perhaps you’d even live normally, but you’d never forgive and never forget. Never ever would you love him, not even close like he loved you. And if the chance arose, you’d always leave without a second thought.

To some part, you believed Rhys knew it. 

Even if everything would seem perfectly fine and your life would go on into a normal, daily habitual way, you’d never be happy or entirely what he imagined you to be. Even if you behaved and acted on his whims, cuddled him, had sex with him, it would never be the same as a consensual relationship between lovers. But by now, he had long discarded the reality in favor of his delusions, wanting nothing more than to seem as perfect as you had been at the beginning of your relationship.

“Hungry?” he asked, and you gave him a deep breath and a weak shake of your head. Setting aside the bowl to ungag you, he lifted your head. The movement gave you a new pang of headaches but knowing you’d get something to fill the emptiness inside of you was worth not collapsing. 

“I want to take you there,” he mused, slowly bringing the spoon to your napped lips. “I want to walk the beach with you and watch the sunsets for the rest of our life. Together.”

All you could do was quietly slurp your soup. There was no right answer to this. No matter what you said, he’d either get upset because he couldn’t believe your lies anymore, or it would disgruntle him. And so, you simply ate as he offered it to you, his wishes leaving his lips while you felt your own being pushed further and further into the back of your head, fearing that one day, you might not be able to remember them after all.


	25. Preparations

Looking fondly at the first couple-picture you two ever took, Rhys laid it down on top of the wrapping paper after a few moments. You two looked so in love, despite your eyes still being puffed from crying a lot in the beginning time over your dear friend. Ever since he knew you, you had been such a sensitive soul, and he fell in love with that feature of you long before you even recognized him. 

It would go to the fragile things, he decided, reaching for the cooking ware next. 

Finally, it was time to move! There was no way Rhys could hide his excitement about that anymore, talking about it constantly. However, right now, he did his best to be quiet. You had just settled in and fallen asleep after taking your meds, so he didn’t want to risk waking you. Still, stuff had to be packed, things had to be sorted out, there wasn’t any time to waste.

Rhys allowed himself a small glance at your tranquil sleeping face, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with your breath. After almost a week, he had decided to change your arms’ position, going back to the bindings at the headboards, so now, you really looked like a baby. His little baby. Cute, adorable, tired, and worn out. Rhys loved you  _ so much _ .

Gently, he sorted through what he wanted to bring from his old apartment to the new house. Undoubtedly, your parents and his parents too would be more than happy to send presents like pots and cutlery. Perhaps, even a few of your old friends would send their regards after the move. It’s been a while since either of you saw them, but Rhys liked to keep in contact, having told them that you two took some time off after the death of your friend. 

You’d probably be thrilled to see them again if they ever came to visit. The new home wasn’t anywhere close to the college, but perhaps in a year or two, when you had settled in by the ocean and behaved well, he’d invite them for a weekend. Rhys only ever thought about your well-being, of course, and seeing your old friends might be good for your mental health.

Smiling to himself, Rhys felt proud of being such a good boyfriend to you, while he decided against bringing a lot of cookware. Most of it had burn marks anyway or started to rust, so there was no use bringing it along. How nice would it be if you decided to cook for him again in the future. He missed all the great things and small snacks you could provide. Sometimes you’d try something new entirely, and it would burn, but even your pout was cute, and he remembered hugging out your frustration with you until take-out arrived. Those memories, Rhys was very fond of.

Aside from essential necessities, there wasn’t much left in the apartment that reminded anyone of people actually living in it. Most of his stuff, Rhys had packed up already, putting the boxes into the corners. Mementos and things he deemed memorable for your relationship were little. You two had a lot more photos standing around, framed, or even things that you bought on trips in the past. But when you had your rowdy phase, you destroyed a lot of them. Rhys never resented you for it, but it made him a little sad not having much to remember your college time by since they were gone now. 

The only thing left was the last drawer on the cabinet. Once, Rhys had just left it empty, but when you practically moved in with him, you used it for things that you brought from your childhood home, those you couldn’t let go of despite not really needing them in your life. Being close to the bed, Rhys tried to open it especially tenderly, but it squeaked as it moved, your eyelids slowly fluttering open.

“Hey there, sleepy head~” Instantly, Rhys was by your side, cooing to you to go back to sleep since you really needed it. A yawn escaped you, absolutely adorably, while you let your head be gently caressed, Rhys leaning onto the mattress to be on the same level as you, watching you fondly. You looked at him dazed and tired, before your view fell on the drawer, pupils dilating as you saw your stuff. Immediately, you were wide awake, childlike excitement glistening in your eyes, nostalgic feelings erupting. “Are those mine?” you asked, hands straining in their restraints to lift you up and see better.

“Yeah, I was just about to put them into boxes.”

“Can I see them?” your question came out of nowhere, your eyes  _ actually  _ looking at him for once in anticipation. This was a sincere request, something you hadn’t asked in a while. Rhys’s heart began to flutter, experiencing you really wanting something from him, and not just your usual wish for him to let you go. 

He left the bed, giving you a quick hesitant glance again, wanting to see if you really meant it, asking him for a favor. But you caught his eyes immediately, showing no ill-will in them towards him, just honest desire to see your stuff. Reaching for the first, best thing that he could grip, he pulled out an old, worn-out photo album. With his back leaned against the bedframe, he held it so that you two could look into it, Rhys never having seen the inside of it before either. Surely, he wanted to, but you two postponed it until this very moment.

A fond smile danced onto your lips as you looked at the old photographs of your mom and dad, holding you as a baby. You, eating puree. You, swimming with inflatable armbands and too big goggles in a pool. You, on your first day of school. All those old memories were saved in here, and it almost brought tears to Rhys’s eyes as you told him a few things you remembered on occasion while he skimmed through the album with you.

“That’s Alex,” you whispered, remorsefully. A shade laid over your expression, teeth grinding and body tensing as photographs of two little kids appeared. They showed you two playing in the dirt, at the graduation, eating in a restaurant on vacation. The longer it went on, the quieter you got. You two became older, there were fewer pictures on the last pages than on the beginning. The last one seemed like you two as teenagers, on some kind of party, grinning like Rhys had never seen you smile before. This was a different happy. 

A happy that Rhys couldn’t achieve.

Slowly, he closed the book, letting it sink to his lap. Aside from the ticking of the clock, there was silence in the room until you turned your head back straight and sighed. You sniffled one time, and Rhys didn’t want to find out why. If you were crying about Alex now, he didn’t want to know it.

“Hey… do you need this still?” he asked, waving the album in his hand. “We don’t… really need to keep it, right?”

Rhys got up, working to pull out the full drawer. He knew what you were feeling, even without looking at you. You were well aware that he wouldn’t discuss this, that he was about to discard all of those precious memories of your childhood like they were nothing more than trash. It broke your heart, and at the same time, you were giving up the hope that he’d understand you and have mercy on your things. 

For a few moments, he looked through your belongings. Some headphones, the album, a few more loose photos of you and Alex. Those were nothing you’d easily get back ever again, and there was no way to make new ones either. It hurt him too, you know? It hurt him, knowing that you were hurt. But it wasn’t good for your relationship to keep any of it.

Just a little stuffed rabbit, about the size of his palm, caught his attention, and he fished it out. Walking over to you, he saw the silent tears, even though your head was turned away, and your eyes closed. The more you suffered, the less Rhys wanted to admit it was because of him, but his gut still clenched together tightly in sympathy for you. Placing the tiny animal on the bed next to your head, he didn’t wait for you to see it, taking out the ‘trash’ immediately and leaving you behind to pity your loss alone.

Soon, the preparations would be done, and you two would move into your new life. There, nothing of the old life, of Alex, and those things that made you sad would linger around. You’d make a new life, new memories, and find new things to keep that strictly belonged to you two. Things would get easier, Rhys told himself, over and over, like a mantra. Everything would become perfect.

He barely hesitated as he dumped the drawer into the big garbage can of the complex. When his eyes fell onto the album again, he scoffed, promising it quietly to return with a lighter in the evening. Rhys couldn’t risk there being anything in the way of your new life, even if he had to hurt you again. It was just another attest of his love.

Once your new life rolled around, he hoped, you’d understand that too.


	26. Clothes

Carefully, Rhys lead your second arm through the sleeve, making sure it wouldn't get stuck and come out on the other hand. It was futile to try and use your own strength to put yourself into the nice dress shirt he had organized you. No matter how hard you wanted to shake your arms, you couldn't manage to move them an inch. It was a wonder your fingers hadn't died off after all the time you had spent in ropes, but you barely felt attached to your arms anymore.

Humming pleased tones, Rhys made sure to roll up the sleeves once you were inside them, giving you a cool, chic look together with the jeans he was about to put on you. "Why not my clothes?" you asked. Your curiosity was sincere, but you wouldn't have been surprised if Rhys had refused to answer, his ways sometimes inexplicable. 

"I chose these clothes for you. You'll look good in them."

His words weren't a surprise, yet, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, sighing. "I do like my clothes, though." 

Rhys buttoned up the shirt, ignoring your complaints, leaving the two on the top open for some additional fashion statements. "You've become good at that," you mumbled, and Rhys grinned, his mood improving even more from your praise. "Thank you~"

He leaned back to look at you, letting out a satisfied breath. "I like this shirt. It suits you, Babe."

There was not much to give on his words, but Rhys didn't mind that you weren't as enthusiastic as he was, simply continuing to talk when you wouldn't. "I went and picked a lot of new clothes for you, I am sure you'll love them. I only thought about you when choosing them!"

Standing up, Rhys made a short trip to one of the boxes in the corner of the room, tipping it over and opening it up to show you neatly folded clothes. "I'm not sure if they'll have your favorite brands in our new city, so I made sure to get some extras that you love. It was a lot of fun going through the shelves. I am sure you'd have enjoyed yourself if you had been with me."

Coming back, you knew by the spark in his eyes that it was time for the pants. It was a hassle getting anything on with your still broken ankles, especially those skinny jeans that he might thought were pretty. Fiddling your feet through the tight fabric wasn't just unpleasant,  _ it hurt _ . Taking a deep breath, you pinched your eyes together, tried your best to support his doings with the minimal movements you could do.

Still, tears collected in your eyes from the pain, sniffles building as you watched him do the last pulls before your first foot was freed. "There, there," he hushed you softly, coming up to kiss away the tears in the corners of your eyes, rubbing your back while your foot throbbed from being disturbed in its peace. "One more, okay?" Rhys tried to comfort you, laying his hand on top of yours, his thumb rubbing over your skin until it warmed up from the friction. 

Taking a deep breath, you gave a slow nod, knowing that the longer you had a break, the worse it would be again. But this time, it was way harder to get your foot through correctly, ending in you having to bite away some screams, sobs falling from your lips instead. Laying in bed before, having Rhys change your elastic underwear at most, it never occurred to you that your ankles weren't broken evenly. 

At what point had you forgotten that it was Rhys - lousy, amateur torturer Rhys - who did all of this to you? Even if he was both the person 'comforting' you, he was also the one punishing you with touches and unnecessary movements on your feet whenever you didn't answer to his liking, and yet, some part of you really believed that he could have done a good job breaking those ankles of yours?

When it was finally over, you breathed heavily, your body tense and in shock from the pain of just putting on pants. The last thing you wanted to think about now was having to get them off. "Why didn't you just use sweatpants…" you mumbled, frustrated, and hurt. 

"We need to look good, Sweetie. The landlord will give us the keys."

"I will fucking scream--"

"Don't do that!" He smacked the top of your left foot, and you gasped, close to tears again. "We want to leave a good first impression, you hear me?"

This time, Rhys didn't comfort you. Urging your arms around his neck, he told you to hold on, a wish which you could barely comply with as you had no strength left in your limbs. But even without your help, Rhys managed to lift you off the mattress, pulling up the pants' waistband on one side before setting you down and changing hands for the other. Once back on the bed, he adjusted it before pulling together the ends, taking a deep breath as if it were his pants that needed to be closed. You expected to maybe have gained weight, but they closed easily, even though some part of you hoped they wouldn't just to spite Rhys's judgment.

Satisfied, he wanted to give you a kiss, but you noticed fast enough, turning your cheek, which left him a bit disgruntled, but that wasn't your problem after all. However, nothing could destroy his good mood that day, and a smile was quick to return. "I love getting to dress you up like this. Had I known how much I enjoy it, I would have done it sooner."

"Disgusting," you spat, and Rhys chuckled. "Just because I can't do it won't mean you will be the one in charge forever.  _ I _ , for one, can't wait to dress myself again in  _ my  _ clothes."

"Tough luck, Baby." 

"What do you mean?"

Leaving you in favor of disappearing in the hallway, you heard him move some objects before reappearing. It would be an overstatement to say he 'magically' made a wheelchair appear, but it was new to you that he owned one. Your legs barely had enough time yet to heal, so you suspected that Rhys might come up with something like this, now that the moving day finally came around. "Tada~"

"You didn't answer my question!" you complained as you watched him unfold the chair, settling it next to the bed. "Mhm, I'm just saying, there won't be much of  _ your  _ clothes to put on once you  _ can  _ do it on yourself again."

He didn't ask you to support yourself this time, quick to grip you under the shoulders and lifting you up. It was pure mercy that Rhys put the chair close enough to the bed so your legs wouldn't simply drag off the mattress, hurting you even more, but he was a little ungentle in letting you down into it.

"I didn't say I packed any of yours, did I?"

"Rhys!" you hissed, feeling shocked as you understood what he meant. "Those were mine! You can't just throw them away!"

"Can I not?" he asked innocently, shooting you one of his stinging glances, your body instantly backing away. "All we own now, we own together. Both of us signed the lease--"

"I didn't sign anything!"

"Because you don't have to, Babe. I can do that for you just fine. The point is, we are in this together. There is no mine or yours, you get that?"

Clenching your teeth, you couldn't help the frustration show in your expression. There wasn't anything you could say or do against Rhys. He had long decided what was right or wrong in his own head without any regard for you. "Bastard," you whispered, and he perked up at that, following it up with a, "Hm?"

"I said you're a bastard!" Screaming at him wouldn't bring anything, but it felt good to let out these stuffed emotions. Even if you regretted them just moments later.

Pulling off your feet from the bed, he put them into the footholds before leaning onto the armrests of the wheelchair, his face coming up uncomfortably close to yours. "You're wrong," he merely replied.

"I'd only be a bastard if I kept breaking those lovely ankles of you for the rest of your life so I could keep on dressing you up like I want. But that's not what we want, right?"

Even if you wanted to back away from him, you could only turn your head to the side with a click of your tongue, avoiding his eyes like the pest. Right now, he was dangerous again, ready to snap another bone if you kept testing him, and you knew it well enough. "Glad we agree, Hun," he smiled, fingers digging around your chin to pull you into a real kiss this time. "Be good, and we won't need to do that, alright?"

Taking the handles on your wheelchair, he moved you towards the hallway, which had almost become unfamiliar to you after all this time, not seeing it and with Rhys having taken out everything from it. It made you realize that this was real, this move was really happening, some part of your brain believing he wouldn't be able to go through with it. But Rhys was, and he would.

"Let's go then, shall we?"


	27. Home

You had to admit, the ocean was beautiful.

Clear, light blue, stones buried in the sand beneath the waves. The rushing was as calming as you expected it to be from the natural sounds that you sometimes listened to before to help you concentrate on your studies. Loud, crashing, and overwhelming, yet mesmerizing. A morbid thought crossed your mind as you watched the water from your car seat, not yet having had the chance to get out while Rhys went inside with the landlords. Apparently, there were some more things to discuss, and you - unable to walk - would have taken too much time to carry around if Rhys had helped you out. 

Drowning in these beautiful waves, morbidly romantic as it was, would have not been so bad.

The tapping on the window next to you made you flinch, head twisting around to see Rhys smiling down from outside the car. The car locks clicked as he opened them with the keys, and he opened the door with you, leaning in for a kiss, which you denied by turning your cheek. However, from the corner of your eyes, you could still see the people you rented the house from - your parent’s friends - and you realized it was all show. They couldn’t see if he kissed you or not with his body blocking the view. At least, that meant you were safe from him getting upset about your denial.

“Admiring the scenery?” he asked you, and you merely sighed in response. To be fair, you were exhausted after the five-hour drive, and your legs hurt despite the seat being pulled back as far as possible. However, being a front-seat passenger with Rhys’s driving style wasn’t easy. There also had been a traffic jam where you had wished to escape from Rhys’s monologues but couldn’t even fall asleep next to him. 

“Let’s get you out, alright?” he sighed as you didn’t react to him at all, leaving the door open as he went to get the wheelchair. You heard his chipper laugh as he said his farewells to the landlords, who probably thought you were rather rude for not even looking at them, much less greeting or interacting. But you couldn’t care less. Would it have even made a difference if you tried to make them understand in what kind of situation you were? Had Rhys told them you were a bit mentally unstable just in case you tried to pull something that would have made them suspicious? You couldn’t know, and you didn’t try, the chance passing as they left your new home, leaving you to fight all by yourself.

When Rhys was finally by your side again, you didn’t help him, knowing fully well by now he could lift you easily. He had lifted you down the stairs at the apartment and into the car, locking you in knowing fully well you’d at least try to crawl out. The wheelchair squeaked under your weight, its wheels rubbing over the asphalt. You kept your eyes on the ocean until Rhys drove you inside the shop, a concrete wall blocking the beautiful view. 

“There we are, look!” Stopping the wheels on your chair, Rhys slipped by you, arms open as you presented the room to you. “Isn’t it perfect? We can open a little shop here, what do you want to sell? Bread? Flowers? Souvenirs? We can make it work! It’ll be our little shop, where we get our hard-earned money from.”

Finally, you let your gaze glide through the space, examining corner to corner. It looked old, a little worn down. The floor was dirty, footsteps everywhere, and you could see cobwebs on the ceiling. A staircase in the far-right indicated another floor above, probably where you were supposed to live from now on. That’s not what you had planned for your life. Having to sell stuff in this crooked little shop. You had wanted to study hard, get a nice degree, maybe work in the city or a big company outside of it. This was all your life would give you? Pathetic. It was pathetic. Rhys was pathetic. 

And you… you were pathetic too. 

“We’ll clean it,” Rhys assured you, walking up to you again. As if he had read your mind, but really, he just watched you intently as you mustered your surroundings. “Put some parquet flooring down, and have some tables line the walls full of goods, that would be nice, right?” His hand came down onto your head, brushing over it to the back of it while he leaned down to kiss the top. “Our little sanctuary, filled with all that we love, okay? Whatever you want, I will get it for you.”

You wanted to click your tongue, shake your head, make him go away, but you were so exhausted. Exhausted of him, of his doings, of what your life was turning into. Only a deep breath escaped you, and he patted the back of your head tenderly in response. “There’s something I want to show you before we go upstairs, alright?” 

Leaving you alone for now, he walked to the back of the room, facing the wall to your left. The corner had been rather dark, but now that he reached for it, you could see the handle of a door sticking from the wall, Rhys opening it up before coming to get you. He left the wheelchair in favor of picking you up, carrying you over, and giving you a first glance of what lay behind the dusty door. Stairs that led down was what welcomed you, and though it was tricky, Rhys did not hesitate shuffling down step by step with you in his arms. 

All of a sudden, it became unnaturally dark, with no natural lightning shining in. But if you listened closely, the rushing of water was closer now, and it felt like only a wall was keeping it from flowing in and taking you away. However Rhys managed to see, he eventually leaned over to set you down, his touch disappearing in the dark as he searched for the light switch. With a ‘ping!’ it turned on, a light bulb shining up to illuminate the dark basement. “A basement,” Rhys said with a mix of pride and happiness. 

“What do you think? It’s not big, but it’ll do for storage. The wall to the sea is a bit thin, but otherwise, it’s very secure and won’t grow mold or anything. It’s also-” Turning towards you, he wiggled his brows meaningfully. “-sound-proof and can be closed off with a key.”

For a good minute, you two only stared at each other, your thoughts circling over his words, an all too familiar burning appearing in your nose. So  _ that’s  _ what it was for, you thought to yourself. Rhys wasn’t just showing you the rooms; he was actually telling you what he was going to do with you in the future. Already, you could tell that this basement would not become your favorite place in the house, much less if Rhys planned to punish you by locking you in here so that no one could even attempt to find you.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you slowly reached up to hide your face in your palms. Concern darted over his expression, and Rhys marched back over to you, kneeling down with his knees on the steps around your legs. “Hey, it’s fine,” he hushed you, his arms wrapping around your back while he pulled you into his chest. For the first time in what seemed like weeks, you couldn’t help but do the same - at least as much as you could strain your arms. You simply buried your face in the crook of his neck, sobbing quietly.

“I want to go home,” you sniffled, loud enough so he could hear it despite the words being caught in his shirt rather than his ear. “Please take me home, Rhys.”

He rubbed your back attentively as you waited for an answer. Perhaps, if you asked him that nicely, he’d actually consider it for once. Rhys had always liked you most when you depended on him and asked for things that would make him look good in your eyes. However, that was the old Rhys, the one that you could only long for now to see. 

“Silly you,” he chuckled. Carefully he pulled you from his chest so you’d see his face even in the shadows of the light. The loving, attentive shine had vanished from his eyes, nothing more than a bit of anger left. “This is home,” he announced, simply, easy. A fact that he decided on, and you would have to comply with as you could feel he wasn’t going to discuss it.

“You’ll come to love it,” were his last words before he kissed your forehead, picking you up again. Leaving the light on, you could only look back over his shoulder as you two left. But you pinched them close, not wanting your thoughts to start cruising and imagine what kind of bad things could happen in this awful room below the earth.

“This is our home now. There’s no need to go back to anything in the past, you understand?”

Somehow, the nagging feeling that his words weren’t just a reaction to yours sat in the back of your head. But with the bit of strength left, you finally gave him a proper answer, nodding your head, not noticing the smile it brought to his lips. “Good,” he whispered, kissing your temple and finally getting out, relieving you of the awful nightmare that this new house would hide in its basement if you happen to not please him a bit more in the future.


	28. Submission

Ever since you two moved into your new home, Rhys had trouble sleeping. 

Naturally, the outdoors were much busier now, with the endless stream of waves rushing towards the wall between the street and the ocean. From childhood on, Rhys had been used to the sound of cars passing by the window at night, so those sounds didn’t bother him. But the change now undeniably was getting to him too, as it was to you.

At least, that’s what he thought as he watched you for another night of sleepless tranquility. 

You were definitely struggling, too, one way or another. Ever since you two moved in, you had been much more vocal at night, your dreams making your stir. Partly because your ankles were still healing, you had trouble turning in your sleep, causing your head to snap from one side to the other instead. Luckily, your head-wound was healing up nicely, not causing any problems. 

It had been way too easy to explain two broken ankles, and a concussion with a fall off the stairs at your old apartment, no one batting an eye at your still pretty messed up condition. Yet, you were still suffering, and so was Rhys. Putting his hand on your head, he softly brushed over it as if you were a child needing some soothing. Wasn’t it amazing how easily you managed to fall asleep next to him again? How little you worried about what would happen in the time that your mind was knocked out from reality? 

Even though it had taken some time, you were slowly but surely turning back to how he wanted you to be. Sweet, calm, submissive. Some part knew that if only you gave in to him, Rhys would have gifted you the world. He would have done anything for you. All he really wanted was to be the star in your eyes as much as you were his.

Rhys had planned so many fun things for your future. The little shop tended to by you two. He’d lift the heavy stuff and move what you needed to be moved while you tended to customers. The people of the neighborhood would get to know you as the sweet, loving couple that worked so hard in their shop. And once everything was going well, Rhys would take you to see new places every week. 

He’d go picnicking with you at the beach, you two ending up having to run home, laughing in the rain. There were cafés and restaurants to explore, clothes to shop, and rings to try on. A lovely, small wedding with the people closest to you two, but Rhys would not shy away to use all kinds of savings to make it beautiful and perfect, just like you deserved it to be. 

Maybe a family.

All this and more Rhys was willing to go through if only you accepted your fate by his side. Understood that he was the one that deserved you more than anyone else. After all, he had done so much for you, despite you showing your ungratefulness recently. If you came to the understanding that you didn’t  _ need  _ anyone else, Rhys would let you have whoever you wanted in your life again. Your family, friends. But until now, you kept being stubborn about your needs and wants, much to his dismay.

And yet, when he was calming you down in your sleep, your body knew how to behave, pressing into his palm while you mumbled the most adorable gibberish. Rhys had to take a moment to calm his beating heart because you reached for his wrist, not gripping strong enough to actually hold it, but when you were so loving to him now, he could barely take it. Even if it was just your subconscious, sleeping form tending to his needs for your love. 

Whenever he watched you like this, he was reminded of how it all started. How it felt to hold you in his arms for the first time willingly, and not just because he sneaked into your bedroom at night. How sweet you always had been, drooling into his shirt while he could not bring himself to tear away from watching you and go to sleep himself. It reminded him of better times and gave Rhys hope that those could come back. In the end, you were still you, and he was still himself, even if so much happened between you. 

There was only one odd habit of yours left, one that managed to ruin every night he spent with you. Especially when you were nervous or uncomfortable and stressed as you were it now after the move, you had a habit of talking in your sleep. Most of the time, it was you dreaming about pancakes, or sometimes you’d be chased by a dinosaur. But almost without any exception, you’d say  _ his  _ name at least once a night. 

“Alex.”

As if that dead, rotting corpse of a friend could do anything for you. 

It was the last bit of you that still held on to the belief that there was ‘help’. That someone - anyone - would come to ‘save’ you from what wasn’t necessary. Rhys only ever had the best in mind for you, and yet, some defiance stayed behind in your subconsciousness, making it so incredibly hard to pass on from the argument that was still continuously erupting between you two. 

If you could just let go of ‘Alex’ - a mere idea in your mind that you could be freed from something terrible - everything would be perfect. You’d finally submit to him completely, give Rhys all the love and feelings he deserved. Finally, you’d be all his, if only this flame of something that was never going to happen went out! It would burn down and disappear in smoke, and you’d be freed of what kept you holding on to your aggression and hatred towards Rhys, making you realize that everything wasn’t so wrong.

… But he couldn’t exactly punish you for that right now. 

Not while you were so eager to be caressed by him, to hold on to his sleeve. Everyone had flaws. You had your ‘Alex’. Rhys had you. Either of you would have to give up their fault someday, but Rhys still loved you despite you breaking his heart every night a little bit more by speaking another man’s name. But he’d be by your side nonetheless, knowing it was hard to let go of habits. You would, given time, he was sure. So it was on him to show you patience and love until it was over. And if Rhys had one thing, then that was time. Long enough so that both of you would find a middle ground and enough time to get used to even the sounds of waves crashing, outside the window, just like your love. Sometimes rough, sometimes desirable.

A love as changeable like the water in the ocean, coming and going but never entirely disappearing.


	29. Rope

Rhys typically wasn’t one for subtlety.

Usually, suppose he wanted something, or you did something he wasn’t approving of. In that case, he’d tell you or let you know otherwise - in the worst case with your body being the victim. But lately, you just couldn’t wrap your head around his behavior anymore. There’d be times he’d ignore you entirely for a while, only to come back for cuddles and smooches like the lovesick idiot he was.

Admittedly, you spent your days vegetating quietly by yourself while he was busy. From below you, constant construction noises were heard, orders that were bellowed. Sometimes, in between Rhys’s voice laughing and talking. For lunch, he’d come up, make some cup noodles, and be gone again before you could talk to him at all. Perhaps, you were getting a little lonely. Ironic, considering you could only spit words if you had to exchange them with him.

And yet, some things made you ponder about them every now and then.

For example, whenever you looked around your small apartment now - lately, you had begun exploring on your own, dragging your body over the ground in search of something useful - you saw a lot of rope. It just laid around, serving no purpose whatsoever, but it was there. More than once had you reached for it, waves of bad memories making you recoil. But eventually, after days of trying to touch it, you overcame the bad connotations you had with it, just feeling its sturdiness between your fingers for a while before putting it back or leaving it where you had been. 

More than once had you thought about taking it with you, using it for self-defense. The idea was there, but you doubted being stronger than Rhys, even if you managed to get him into a challenging position before strangling him. So you continued on your search for something more useful. However, you found yourself restricted like a toddler, everything sharp and dangerous being on top of a shelf or the kitchen counter.

Standing didn’t work yet, and you were upset about your lack of ability but had to give in to it eventually. Your time would come, that’s what you told yourself. Sometime.  _ Eventually _ .

Yet, they kept appearing like a warning. A pouncing animal. One day, a rope would hang from the table; another day, you’d find it lying next to the bed. There was one even in the bathroom. This house needed a lot of fixing for sure, but rope was not that essential to justify it just being there… everywhere.

You may have become paranoid at this point, thinking something was about to happen any second now. As if Rhys was just going to jump into the room and wrap you up like a Christmas gift in those ropes, he left lying around. It gave you anxiety; it scared you. It made you want to stay in bed all day despite finally having the chance to move around without Rhys being at your side all the time. Still, this was more than odd. It was simply disturbing. 

Playing with the rope in your hand, you let it slide through the gaps in your fingers, wrapped it around your palm.  _ Tightly _ .  **Tighter** . So much that your hand began to hurt. A gasp escaped you as you threw it away from you, curling into yourself. It hurt to tug in your legs, but you punished yourself for the thought that just occurred in your head.

Maybe… you wanted to get roped up again?

No,  _ no _ ,  **_no_ ** _**!** _Who’d ever want something like this! That’s disgusting, you cursed yourself. You did not wish for Rhys to do that to you ever again!

Besides, for what reason? You didn’t do anything! You were relatively tame lately, even if you huffed at and annoyed him. There was no reason for him to use the rope on you, besides… You wouldn’t be so alone then, right? He’d check on you much more often if he knew you were restricted, maybe needing the bathroom or being hungry. 

You really were a little  _ lonely _ , after all.

This whole new house, the stressing sounds from below. Being so reclusive for what felt like forever had its toll on you, and now it was even harder to connect to anyone. It would make anyone lonely, right? It’s not like you’d have chosen Rhys over anyone else, but he was your best choice of company at the moment. This was terrible, and you knew it, but you were at a point where you couldn’t help yourself.

When you finally heard someone walk up the stairs, instead of crawling back to your bed, you stayed where you were, facing the sounds head-on. “Oh?” Rhys cooed, a big, idiotic smile plastered on his face. “Changing your view?” he asked, and you chewed on your tongue for a bit, thinking about what to say.

There was nothing that would have pleased you more than ruin his sucky good mood, but really, you just wanted to go one day without having to fight and him disappearing again as a punishment. You really just wanted… some attention from him. Some good, old attention from the man who said he loved you more than earth loved circling the sun. 

“Welcome home,” you decided on saying instead of an insult or snarky remark, and you saw his brows lift, eyes widen. For a short moment, his movements stopped, as if he expected you to say something to shoot him down now, but nothing remotely to that happened, even as he slowly walked towards you. “Can we have some delivery for dinner today?” you asked innocently while looking up at him and keeping eye contact. A rare gesture for you to want. Who really would like to look someone in the eye that acted like the big, bad wolf in their life?

“What do you want to eat?” he asked, voice cracking lightly while he tried to understand what was going on. However, it was apparent that he was more than smitten with you being so welcoming and talkative. You being friendly was like the eight world wonder. This was the most civilized conversation you two had in forever. “Hm, Sushi?” Slowly, Rhys nodded, squatting down. His eyes fell on the rope, discarded to the left. “Are you… are you okay?” he asked. As if he  _ needed  _ to ask that. As if he had the  _ right  _ to ask that.

“It’s been a little lonely lately,” you admitted, and you saw his heart crash by how his eyes darted back to you, lip quivering. Was that his expression when he felt regretful? Or... was it happiness? “Oh, Baby…” he whispered. Instinctively, you closed your eyes as his hands moved towards you, but all you felt was a gentle touch. Hands with which you weren’t content with supported your neck and wrapped around your torso attentively, pulling you in to him. It was a weird feeling to be held by him now as if you did something completely wrong, yet, felt no remorse whatsoever. In fact, it was nice to be warmed by his body, smell him, and feel his softness for a change.

For the first time, Rhys lifted you up, kicked aside a chair for you to sit on, putting you on the same level as he was. With a kiss to your head, he moved away, turning to search for a pamphlet to order food. “I’ll be right back,” he noted, running down the stairs, and you could see the goofy, lovestruck expression on his face, one which he hadn’t shown you in a while.

Your eyes couldn’t help but wander as you saw the apartment fully furnished for the first time. The first time, not from the eye range of a toddler, at least. Up here, everything seemed more or less established, though you would have done some things differently for sure. On the table next to you, a newspaper and some books were lying around, and just to waste the time waiting for him, you picked up the one on top, reading the title carefully.

“ _ Changing Mindsets - How and tricks to help change our subconscious thoughts holding us back _ ”

_ Weird title _ , you decided, flipping through the pages. You didn’t remember Rhys being so much into self-therapy books. But much less, you realized that there were two people in this house suffering from very disturbed minds. Instead, when you heard him come back from downstairs, you looked up.

And in anticipation of sushi, for the first time in weeks you smiled at him.


	30. Scary

For the longest time, you had believed in different things being scary.

Rhys, undoubtedly, was scary. He was incredibly frightening when he was angry or upset, throwing temper-tantrums like a child over you not reciprocating his feelings. The way he moved could be scary, unpredictable, and rash. His strength was dangerous. These piercing, yellow eyes of his were scary. It scared you when he was completely infatuated with you, and it scared you when he ignored you just the same.

Being alone... that was scary too. You never wanted to be strapped to a bed anymore and left there the whole day, alone and, in the worst case, gagged. Despite it not having happened yet, you were already scared shitless over the thought of being alone in the dark basement. Tied to a chair, the light switched off. Only you and the crashing of the waves that would feel like they are going to break through the wall any second now and drown you. The sound of the ocean, as beautiful as it was, scared you too.

It was scary that you had two broken ankles and didn’t know if they’d heal properly anymore. It was scary to remember all the cuts and bruises you had received just from being with Rhys. The stone that had smacked you unconscious had been scary too. Ropes, knives, hands, stones - they all were scary. 

You were scared.

And yet, this situation, the happy, funny mood that echoed through your living room… the people talking to each other, to Rhys, to  _ you _ … that was the scariest of all of them.

“We’ve been so worried! If Rhys hadn’t been in touch, you probably wouldn’t even have sent us a text!” Despite her words, your mother laughed, taking away the seriousness of her scolding easily. She handed you a glass of sparkling wine, doting on you like only a mother - or, well, Rhys - would since you were still in no condition to walk on your own or collect anything by yourself. “We are so glad you two settled in so well. The shop looks awesome!”

Right, this was… the celebration over the finished shop downstairs. It was finally finished, all thanks to your- no, Rhys’s hard work. Tables were erected, all kinds of junk like candles and napkins had been put on display, next to souvenirs, which were both original and classics. Rhys really had done his best to combine all he could, arranging flowers and succulents ready to be taken away, figurines, cheap jewelry. Anything that would bring in people really, yet nothing too valuable.

The clinking of a metal spoon against a glass tore you out of your thoughts again, making you lift your head. Rhys came next to you, his arm around your shoulders, while he lifted the glass in his own hand. A couple dozen eyes looked at you and him expectantly while he prepared for his speech. What did they see, you wondered? Perhaps, the answer was already known to you, but somehow, you still couldn’t shake the appeal of at least one person here having a healthy conscience and realizing that all of this… was so, so wrong. 

“I am so happy to be able to celebrate with all of you today,” Rhys spoke up, voice shaking slightly as if he was actually moved. Or maybe, he was, and you just had a hard time believing it. “To finish the shop and build this life… I didn’t think I could become so happy.”

It was nonsense, gibberish that he tried to sell the people here, but they didn’t know. They were simply and happily unaware of what happened to you before this move, behind their closed eyes of ignorance. “And of course, the person I owe this happiness to-” You felt his hand on your shoulder dig into your flesh, shaking you lightly. It was a sign for you to look up at him, which you did, slow and hesitant, but you long lost the power to withstand him, too. However, Rhys would have waited as long as necessary for you to do as he wanted, and the grin on his lips grew wider as you did exactly that. “-is, of course, the love of my life! To many happy years to come, and to bring happiness to us!”

Rhys took the chance to push your glasses together, everyone cheering to his speech, clapping and drinking their wine. You looked around into all these faces of family and friends, people you love and cherish, and yet, looking at them now, you had to realize that they were all just marionettes dancing to Rhys’s tune. They all were played by him and his antics, their strings moving up and down with him as their puppeteer. 

You, on the other hand, you were a porcelain doll, broken and repaired a few times, and though you knew how he really was, you were unmoving. 

Now was the time to yell! It was the time to fight and bite and scream and expose him, and yet, all you did was stare at the sparkles in your drink, blinking a few times. “My, are you not happy, Dear? Why the grim face?” your mother asked, her voice pestering you by now. 

_ “No, I am not,” _ is what you should have said.  _ “Rhys broke my legs. He also kidnapped me, held me hostage, threatened me with a knife, and smashed my head.” _

But when your mouth opened, your throat made no sound. Instead, you looked up as you felt Rhys’s hand on top of your head like an appraising parent to their child, looking at his satisfied expression, the knowing look in his eyes. Perhaps, the scariest thing ever was how well Rhys knew you. He knew you wouldn’t do anything to ‘endanger’ your relationship even if he brought back the people you loved and trusted into your life again. He knew you’d see that there was no fighting his love for you anymore.

He knew… it was over.

The times of rebellion were done, the hatchet buried between you two. Whatever was left of your fight had died. Died, knowing that no one would help you even if you were to go against Rhys. It died not without trying, but without succeeding anything you tried. Now it really… was only him and you left that were  _ aware _ . Aware of the abuse and mistreatment. The manipulation, the punishments. 

Without responding, you brought your glass up to cheer to your mother, who looked at you confused for a split second as you looked like you wanted to say something, but she smiled before she clinked in. The taste of alcohol and tingling of it on your tongue helped hold back the tears, and the moment you lowered your glass, you tasted Rhys’s lips on yours, his face hiding the few that escaped. 

But now, at the lowest point you could possibly be, you didn’t need to feel scared anymore.


	31. Love

The time passed fast now, especially when you were busy. 

Your ankles healed, strangely enough, well. Probably through the effort of getting real medical treatment once Rhys didn’t suspect you of acting up anymore. Sometimes, walking steps still gave you a hard time, but it passed eventually. You never had to experience the torture that was the basement, except for the few times a week you had to sort through the stock of wares that you stored down there. 

It had been a year by then that you two started living in your new home. The days were filled with tending to the shop, the evenings with dinner, and enjoyment. Perhaps the most surprising thing to you was how well your store was going. You even had regulars who bought new houseplants or came by for a chat. You started learning their names, accepting cookies from them, and in return, hand out left-over baking or magazines. 

You made new friends.

Rhys accepted you having a social life, despite always being with you when you were invited out. You never wholly lost the threat that he was, but his trust seemed to grow every day still. Suddenly, you had access to everything again, a phone, a laptop, your social contacts, going grocery shopping on your own.  _ Knives  _ to cut meat with.

Sure there were things to complain about, but you lived happier just not complaining. Rhys was happy, and so you were happy too. At least, the longer you told yourself that, the more you were able to believe it. What more could you have wanted, despite your life being this simple? Everything that was supposed to satisfy you was there. You lacked nothing. Rhys was like a mere shadow in the back of your mind now.

Or better said, he was the ring on your finger. 

The marriage had been on a perfect, summer day by the sea. Everyone you loved had been with you, even though saying ‘yes’ had almost made you want to throw up back then. Some days were worse than others. Sometimes, it was just hard to accept it still. But most of them were good. You were safe, you were loved, you were happy. 

Yes, happy. Happy.

Were you?

Now, a year later, you had gained back the reign over your thinking and body, stopped being so submissive and introverted. You could say what was on your mind and do what pleased you as long as he approved of it. There were barbeques to attend, coffees to drink, and a shop to tend to. Rhys was now your husband, but he was still trying his best to please you even after becoming that. The arguments were gone, the discussions over since you wouldn’t dare start any despite stating your opinions freely. He followed your instructions, and he still loved you deeply. Sex, too, had become enjoyable again. 

_ Crazy _ , you thought.  _ Crazy how life can change so much at all times if you stop fighting the inevitable. _

Your eyes followed the man smiling softly as he browsed your wares. He was a regular. His name was Oskar. You liked him, he was very polite, oftentimes bashful when he spoke to you. But the smile he’d show and the spark in his eyes was the most sincere you had seen in a while. Despite only just moving here, he had become a regular, always buying this or that useless trinket on display. 

Somehow, you thought he might have a different reason to come here than to actually shop.

“That’s all,” he confirmed to you at check-out, making barely any eye contact. He was just shy, you thought as you rang him up, telling him his total. “Actually…” he muttered as he handed you the money. Finally, you were allowed another glimpse into his hazel eyes, warm and comforting. They reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around who. Someone you had tried to forget in the past.

“I wanted to ask if you’d like to have coffee sometime?” 

_ Ah _ , you realized, it washing over you suddenly. By now, destroyed, put together again, and then married to the idiot that broke you in the first place, you wouldn’t have expected it. Expected someone else to actually come around and have any interest in you. But here Oskar was, wringing his hands and growing nervous with every second that you didn’t respond.

“Sure,” you said confidently, despite feeling almost dizzy, overwhelmed with the sudden spurt of emotions you felt. This almost felt new despite you knowing that you were very much capable of feeling other things besides your self-proclaimed happiness. Real happiness was like a drug, rushing through your veins immediately, getting you high. Someone being interested in you who you were also interested in, was an emotional rollercoaster that you had long tried to not drive for your own sake. 

Using some wrapping paper, you jotted down your phone number, when suddenly, your mind drifted off. Now, it had been a long time since you thought about these things. Of a different life, different people around you. Doing what you wanted without the menace in the back of your head. Without having to think about the punishment, you’d receive if you did exactly what you wanted. But here someone was, unfamiliar with Rhys and, most importantly, uninfluenced by him. A person who cared for you, someone who actually tried to make an effort. 

You blinked a few times before you proceeded to write down your number, adding the simple, delicate touch of a “Help me” beneath it. It was so subtle, you thought, it should be clear to anyone who saw it. Thus, you handed it to Oskar, his eyes shining up happily first before they darkened rapidly, staring at the paper in his hand. 

Seconds passed, only the clock on the wall moving. You could watch his hand beginning to shake while you stood their unbudging. Oskar didn’t make any attempts to say or do anything. However, he began to look back and forth between you and the paper, and you felt your heart - your stone-hard, frozen over, completely undermined heart - beat a little faster at that. 

So he understood. He really did understand.

Someone finally listened to you.

It was unfortunate that neither of you noticed Rhys come in from the back door, arm laying around your waist suddenly, making you flinch. That was the first mistake you made. It was way too obvious that you didn’t expect him. You were too lost in your mind to forget about Rhys, signaling him something was wrong. He kissed your cheek before greeting Oskar, who suddenly became nervous, quick to shove the paper from his hand into his pocket. Second mistake, Rhys’s eyes narrowed.

“What did you buy?” your husband asked, wanting to browse the goods. “O-Oh, nothing special!” Oskar quickly responded, reaching for the shopping bag before Rhys could.

“Really? Everything is special here, however…” Looking at you, Rhys waited before you hesitantly reciprocated his glance. You saw yourself reflecting in his eyes, looking like a punched dog already. Third mistake, your body language was just too submissive to lie to him. “We have better things in the basement, right, Babe?” 

Gulping, you felt an instant wave of fear overcome you. The basement would never be a good place for you. “I’ve seen you around a few times, why don’t you come down with me and have a look at the goodies?” Rhys smiled at Oskar, putting on his kindest, most convincing grin. You were glad to see that Oskar was not stupid, looking at you first. But really, what could you do? There was no way to resist Rhys, and you didn’t want to experience the basement yourself when he was just so persistent on going there.

So you looked away, sealing another fate in favor of saving yourself. 

“S-Sure,” Oskar mumbled. Perhaps, Rhys’s good acting was finally paying off. “Come on then,” he instructed, leading Oskar around the counter and opening the door for him. “Careful, it’s very dark,” Rhys chuckled as the man passed him. But instead of following right away, he took another moment to come up next to you, taking a deep breath. You waited for him to say something, to scold you, but he just breathed. All you could concentrate on were his breath and the clock on the wall, every second passing unnerving you more.

You lowered your head, gripping your left arm with your right hand as if you needed to put up a protective barrier in front of yourself. Only one of his hands reached to the small of your back, but you found no comfort as it merely lied there unmoving, Rhys towering next to you like a snake, waiting to jump and bite you to death any second now. 

With his free hand, he reached for the drawer under the counter and in front of you. You moved away as he pulled it open, his hand always on your back like a threat. With the sound that only a very sharp, very beautiful blade would make when pulled out, he produced his favorite butcher knife, usually just there - if you believed him - for protective services.

“I love you,” Rhys mumbled, kissing the side of your forehead. “I do it because I love you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

You turned to him, slowly, desperate, and looked into these unnerving, yellow eyes of his, wondering how your life could have turned into this utter mess. A mess you even learned to accept. There was no telling how long you looked at him, but leaning into his direction, you kissed him, knowing it was on you now to soothe your lover’s mind, or it would be you who was going to receive the real punishment - worse than death - after he was done taking care of the ‘problem’ he had found.

“I love you more, Rhys.”

“I love you, most.”

♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story ♥ This was my full project going through October 2020 and while there were up and downs, I did have a lot of fun with it and it was quite freeing to write such a long, complete story. Do let me know what you thought in the comments below! ^-^


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